


A Journey Southbound

by Shortsandramblings



Series: Triangles of Sorts [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, Misunderstandings, Older Man/Younger Woman, family awkwardness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-07-25 21:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7548022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shortsandramblings/pseuds/Shortsandramblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a true Stark, Sansa is loyal to those she cares about. This is unquestionably the case in her relationship with her best friend, Renly. - She would most likely do anything for him: take a nine hour train journey to Storm’s End for him, pretend to his narrow-minded family that she is his girlfriend – correction <em>fiancée</em>, ... meet his rather intense older brother...</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Catching the Train

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sarah_Black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/gifts).
  * Inspired by [To the North and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6838375) by [Sarah_Black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/pseuds/Sarah_Black). 



> This story is somewhat inspired by Sarah_Black’s amazing story ‘To the North and Back’ which I definitely encourage you to read :)
> 
> -
> 
> Seeing as I won’t be able to publish this tomorrow (like I had hoped), and with the rather worrying cliff-hanger I left for one of my other stories today, felt like I should ‘cheer’ some of my constant readers with something a little ‘lighter’. – Enjoy ( hopefully :) )

 

 

 

 _No, no, no, no, no you cannot leave without me!_...

Most likely looking like a crazy-psycho person, heart hammering, feet aching, hand becoming clammy as it continued to grip the suitcase rolling frantically behind her, the rest of her sweating like a pig – _though, actually, pigs don’t sweat_... _Oh! shut up stupid brain!_...- Sansa continued to run down the platform towards her train; the last train going to Storm’s End that would arrive today. - _Well tonight_...

 

 _YES!!! Score_!!

Sansa couldn’t help but give an air fist-bump just after she had swiftly moved into the first carriage still open of the intended train. Mini-victory dance over, she then proceeded to - _finally_ \- let out a long sigh: – _I made it_ ; _I haven’t let Renly down... at least, not yet_...

Of course, that was when she realised the train station’s speaker voice woman was talking:

**_ < < ... due to the weather earlier this morning, there are only two of the four rail lines available for use at this moment, causing slight delays for our train journeys. - We thank you for your patience and understanding... > >_ **

... To then hear soft snickering from inside the carriage.

Looking from the ceiling, where Sansa assumed the ‘train-voice’ had come from, to the enclosed space around her, her eyes quickly landed on a group of several guys standing and sitting around a large portion of the seats, to the extent that it seemed that they had basically taken over this particular carriage.

From their grins, they had clearly witnessed her arrival and fist bumping, as well as also obviously realising that Sansa had most likely ran the majority of the station in a frenzy, but ultimately stressing for nothing.

 _Though_... following their gaze, she soon also realised that they were now eyeing her formfitting leotard and tights, that – _yep_ \- were more than showing underneath her father’s clearly not-at-all well closed old trench-army coat she was currently wearing.

 _Freaking Old Gods! - really need to get the buttons fixed_!

Her face and neck turning once more as red as her hair, this time from embarrassment rather than exertion, Sansa quickly put a stop to the show she was giving them and brought the two sides of the winter coat together, closing the buttons as best she could. - She was actually surprised that she hadn’t been stopped during her run for indecent exposure...

 

 _Gods! – why had 'Monsieur' Baelish insisted in changing the choreography for the hundredth time and demand another rehearsal this morning for Odette’s key dance?_!

The routine had been _perfect_ all throughout the week! Sansa's footing had been near _faultless_! And if Baelish hadn’t contradicted it with such nonsense, she would have had the time to properly pack, as well as not be in her ballet training outfit and ending up flashing a group of twenty-something year old men.

 

 _But noooo_...

 _Monsieur_ Baelish couldn’t _feel_ enough of Sansa’s ‘ _passion_ ’...

... _arrghhh_ \- soon the man would be feeling her knee hit him right between the legs if he didn’t stop finding reasons to touch her every five minutes of rehearsals-

\- “You are welcome to join us.”

She had not finished closing the last to buttons, still silently imagining a very satisfying scene where she was kneeing Baelish in the crotch and him falling to the floor whilst everyone in the ballet company cheered her on, when a voice – a ( _possibly dodgy_ ) invitation - was given. Looking up, slightly embarrassed, slightly worried; Sansa came face to face with one of the guys, who had clearly moved closer to her during her momentary lapse.

Eyes meeting, his grin widened as he went on: “You can sit next to me; it’s all _nice_ and _cosy_... plus with we even got some drinks and snacks.”

At the words, most of the others lifted their beers, giving her small nod before grinning and taking gulps from their beverages.

 

Unfortunately, when taking a slight step in retreat, Sansa’s back felt another presence just behind her, as another voice spoke from above her shoulder:

“Damon, stop being a dick.”

 

Swiftly turning around and putting some distance with her and this new arrival, Sansa came face to face with a tall, brown haired, well built late-twenties-early-thirties man, with piercing pale blue eyes. Staring straight back at her, he proceeded to say in a much gentler manner to the one he had used on his friend ‘Damon’:

“I apologise for my friends, it’s the first time I’m taking them out of Dreadfort and it seems they are a little over excited, that they forgot their manners. Let me introduce myself: my name is Ramsay Bolton. And, although Damon can seem to be a bit of a heathen, I can assure you, he is quite harmless – and he was correct: you _are_ more than welcome to join us... I swear, we don’t _bight_.”

 

Someone behind Sansa added: “Well expect for Alyn; everyone should stay away from him – probably has rabies.”

To incur a retorting “ _Fuck you_ ” from another– most likely from the mentioned ‘ _Alyn_ ’.

 

But Sansa’ gaze was still fixed on the ‘leader’, his pale eyes making her think of dirtied ice piercing into her own light blue ones. – Although his manners and tone had been much more inviting and gentlemanly than his friends, his words even possibly considered _friendly_ , Sansa couldn’t help but feel the shiver run down her back, as if this 'Ramsay Bolton' really meant the opposite to the words he had just spoken. - Especially with that maddening ‘sweet’ smile that continued to spread further on his face.

 

Throat slight tightened, Sansa finally found the ability to speak: “That... that is very kind of you... t-thank you for the generous offer, but I already have a seat - _my_ seat... that I have reserved-yes... a reserved seat... my reserved seat... which I should probably go and find”, finishing with a small – _nervous_ \- smile.

To further her statement, she then proceeded to take a step back from ‘Ramsay’ before turning and then moving around ‘Damon’, who didn’t seem at all bothered that he was in her way.

Muttering apologies, she staggered along down the train corridor, through the rest of the group, trying to not to have any sort of contact between herself (or her bag) and them, or even coming into eye-contact with any of them, all the while feeling all their stares boring down on her.

During these few moments, she ended up reminding herself that the main thing was she _caught_ the train... she was _on_ the train (even if it had yet to move)... and she would not be letting Renly down... - _That is_ all _that matters... Renly is all that matters... not a group of creepy men_...

 

 

The next carriage was much fuller. It was apparent from the greater amount of people in the next carriage that others had also decided to avoid the group of ‘joyful’ men, and had proceeded to the next carriage along instead. Unfortunately, this carriage seemed to also be a _loud carriage_ : three – possibly four - families with children under a certain age were discernible.

Continuing her journey down the aisle cluttered with bags and heavy coats, the next one fared no better as it clearly held a class of ten year olds on a school trip.

Letting out a sigh, Sansa let out a curse: _\- Gods, I hate freaking Baelish for making me miss all three of the earlier , more direct, trains_...

 

 

With the rising frustration, Sansa could feel the sweat once more starting to run down her back, under the rain guard. However, not ready to give up, she opened the next door to take in a much quieter, less busy compartment. Looking around she took in the strip of rich dark blue carpet, the slightly enclosed seats, the small but nicer lamps on the tables, the superior upholstery, for her gaze to finally land on the ‘ _First Class’_ written on small covers at the top of each of the cushioned seats.

To further affirm the distinction between this carriage to the previous ones, Sansa could also note that its occupants seemed – for the great majority – to be wearing expensive suits, some with gold rimmed reading glasses, focused on the tablets, spread-sheets or _Westorsi Times_ in front of them, ignoring her entrance or everything else going on around them.

There was even an unsettling type silence to the compartment – one you would only find in a library – with only the occasional clicking of a laptop keyboard or the turning of a newspaper page disrupted.

 

Even more self-conscious of her movements, trying to make herself as quiet as possible – even with the plush carpet under her feat softening her steps - Sansa started once more moving down the train.

She had only reached half way down though before - _horror above all horrors_ \- her phone decided this was the best moment to start ringing, breaking the church-like silence and stillness-

 _-FUUUCKKKK_!!!

Dread running through her, feeling more and more glares looking up to her, Sansa frantically fumbled through the pockets of her coat, all the while making sure that it didn’t open for the second time and expose her light attire underneath.

Finally feeling the sleek hardness, her fingers gripped around the currently overly-animated object and pulled it out just in time to read ‘ ** _Harry Hardygn_** ’ on the screen, before the screen went black and the phone silenced itself.

 

She was about to turn the phone on to silent mode, when a woman’s voice started speaking throughout the train:

**_ < < Welcome to this Cross Westeros Line train service to Sunspear, stopping at White Harbour, Moat Cailin, the Twins, Darry, Sow’s Horn, King’s Landing, Storm’s End, Griffin’s Roos, Stonehel, taking the Nyymeria Bridge over the Sea of Dorne to Ghaston Grey, The Thor, Godsgrace, Planky Town and finally Sunspear. – Please be advised: we will be leaving Winterfell Train Station momentarily. Beware of the closing doors. We once more apologise for any delays we may have caused in your journey due to the bad weather. We thank you for your patience and understanding. > >_ **

 

Seeing as the train was about to depart, Sansa gave a silent sigh before, admitting defeat - too tired and sweaty to go any further. Wrapping her coat tighter around her, she sat down in the nearest available seat.

\- The small lurch the train gave a moment later, before starting to move out of Winterfell Station towards the south, only further confirmed the suitability of her decision.

Further fixed, settling herself further into the (rather comfortable) seat, Sansa faced forward as the final convincing argument ran through her mind: she could always use the credit card her father gave her ‘ _for emergencies_ ’ to pay for the first class ticket. - If trying to get through a nine hour train ride as comfortably as possible, whilst escaping a group of spine-chilling thirty year old men, before a weekend that Renly described as ‘ _Dante’s Inferno, Part II_ ’ was not considered an emergency, she didn’t know what was...

 

As if to prove her day was not yet finished from torment, that was when her phone decided to start ringing again:

Looking down, she read the infernal name ‘ ** _Harry Hardygn’_** once more on the screen

\- _Oh yea... and trying to ignore men who just wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer_...

 

Sansa couldn’t help but let out a groan as she quickly pressed the ‘ _reject’_ button: — _why can’t_ _Harry take the (rather obvious) hint_?

Unfortunately, it was as if all the Gods were conspiring against her, because at that very moment the train swayed and her finger accidentally hit ‘ _answer’_ instead.

... Not a second later Harry’s voice was clearly audible... to her... and, most likely, twenty or so businessmen:

“ _Sansa?... Sansa?! Can you hear me_?-”

Quickly putting the phone to her ear, Sansa whisper-yelled: “-Harry, I can’t talk right... This is really not a good time-“

But the fucking idiot was having none of it: “ _Sansa! – Where are you? I can hardly hear you_!-“

Temper rising slight, there was a slight bark to her tone as she cut him off: “Harry, this is _not_ a good time for me to talk... I’m on the train and the signal isn’t very good.”

_“Fine, I will call you later.”_

Panic mixing with her frustration, she quickly disabused him of such a horrible idea: – Harry really could NOT ring her while she was staying with Renly’s family and was trying to convince them she was madly in love with him:

“No! You can’t call me at all this weekend. I-I’m … working, and you know I can’t take my phone during rehearsals. Look, I... _Gods_ , Harry, to be completely honest there is nothing for us to still talk about: you are a very nice guy but I really think you misunderstood the nature of our relationship-“

\- She then stopped abruptly, the rest of her words disappearing in her throat before she was able to utter them, as she felt a shiver run through her, before her eyes went to the window, to stare straight into the reflected eyes of the man sitting opposite... Or rather: from behind his newspaper, the man opposite her was staring – no _glaring_ \- straight at her eyes. The slightly darkened glass removed all detail, all colour. It was as if his skin had been smoothed from all wrinkles and blemishes, she couldn’t be sure of the colour of his eyes or the exact tan of his skin, the contrast with the stark white of his shirt was still noticeable...

... _Ethereal_ ... that was the only way could describe him... his face, in the glass; only adding the haunting quality of his dark eyes as they continued to pierce into her very soul.

For a moment, she was incapable of doing anything but stare straight back at him.

 

“- _Sansa?! What on are you going on about? The ‘nature o-_ ”

\- But before Sansa could react - find the will to shut Harry down and stop this futile discussion - her phone acted on its own accord once more and decided to turn-off.

 

With the sound of silence going in her ear, now only hearing the train as it continued to move along the northern landscape, reality came back to Sansa, before she looked down at the now dead device.

Relief ran through her at finally not hearing Harry’s voice any more.

Unfortunately, the feeling only lasted a few seconds, before she let out a sequence of curses under her breath: _FUCK_! _Fuck-a-di fuck-a-di, FUCK_! - Because of _fucking Baelish_! and his _fucking demand_! for a morning rehearsal, she had forgotten to charge her phone...

... and now she had no way in letting Renly know that she had gotten the train and that she was on her way... on her way to rescue him... rescue him from his own family.

 

Shoving her phone back into her pocket, at a loss as to what else she could do, she once more sunk into the seat, as she turned towards the window. Though, instead of looking towards the reflection of her ‘ _table companion_ ’ and most probably being met with a stare of disapproval, she looked outside, to then notice that the snowflakes had started to fall once more, swirling in the wind.

She let out a tired sigh - Renly was probably right: this weekend seemed to already be going in the direction of becoming a close second to ‘ _Dante’s Inferno_ ’... and she was most likely already going through in the first of the Nine Circles of Hell, _Limbo_.

 

Rather fittingly, it was at this moment that the train entered into a tunnel, the scenery disappearing into momentary darkness, before the train lights turned on, and Sansa found herself staring at a wall of black.

 

 


	2. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stannis is slightly grumpy - ok, pretty grumpy... and is not having the best morning (or last few days)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few ages: Sansa => 25 // Renly => 31 // Stannis => 37 // Robert => 50 (more will be added later :) )

 

 

It was official.

Stannis was now fully convinced that the train had somehow transported him to some alternate universe where all things went _wrong_.

And yet, as soon as the thought formed in his mind, he was forced to correct himself. – _No_. He really didn’t need to be in an alternate universe for such a succession of events to happen; it was actually usually was the reality of the world – or, at least, _his life_ \- that ‘ _if something is going wrong, it is bound to only get a whole lot worse_ ’.

 

Letting out a long silent sigh, Stannis gave up on trying to read any of what was written on the page in front of him. He had bought the newspaper mainly to read its main news articles - domestic as well as International – and also possibly look in to Finance section (- to see how well the ‘ _Family Company’_ was still doing with Robert not doing much and leaving others in charge). At this moment, however, part of him was more than tempted in reading _all_ of the paper (– even the drivel of society pages, and the TV guide -) in an attempt to ignore young woman now sitting opposite him, who seemed to have made it her mission to be the focus of his mind since her ‘ _entrance_ ’.

His attempt hadn’t worked though. Even the preposterously inaccurate outline of the operations Beyond the Wall hadn’t stopped him being aware of her. And now, after _that_ phone call, the words on the page weren’t even sinking in, proving that, even from the start, the task he had given himself was doom to fail (- where as hers was baring much more success).

It was hardly surprising though. Stannis _had_ just spent the greater part of the year stranded in the most northern part of Westeros in the company of primarily men, and he _was_ still human enough to notice a beautiful woman.

 

... _She **is** providing a distraction from thinking about the dismal weekend ahead though_...

\- That was true: it had to be recognised that it wasn’t as if his growing frustration – _and headache_ \- had started a little less than twenty minutes ago when the compartment door had opened and a being he could only describe as a beguiling _siren_ (– she _even_ had the red-hair like that mermaid, in that film Shireen insisted on watching over and over again -) had disturbed the serenity of the space...

... Or a few minutes later, when she was one end to a rather quite _distracting_ phone conversation, whilst he was trying to concentrate on the _Westerosi Times_ article on the growing tensions in Essos, between Tyrosh and Lys...

... Or the fact that out of _all_ the _many_ empty seats (- alright, _alright_ , the _five_ empty seats... but _five_ was still a _multiple_ _choice_ number of seats! -) she had to have sat in the one facing him!

... Or the small detail that the suitcase she had rolled behind her was _still_ in the corridor, as the young lady had yet to put it in the designated overhead space...

Nor had his torment started within the last three hours, when, because of the constant snow falling throughout the North, the train had first been delayed at the Last Heath and then, just now, at Winterfell...

... Or when he missed the previous train because Second Lieutenant Doctor Tarly had ended up talking to Stannis for over fifteen minutes about his ‘ _high blood pressure’_ or some other nonsense...

... Or even earlier this morning, when his alarm hadn’t gone off for some reason, even though Stannis could have sworn he had turned it on last night...

... Or that he had slept really badly because of a very strange nightmare involving lions, wolves and stags...

... Or, even yesterday, when he had received the news that the Castle Black Airport had been closed due to the several snow storms in the last few days.

 

He let out a silent sigh: at least he was going south, to warmer weather, to where it wasn’t snowing (-he had checked-)... to _Storm’s End_.

Regrettably, his thoughts soured once more when he remembered _why_ exactly he was going to Storm’s End: Robert’s Fiftieth Namesday Celebration Party.

 _Yes_ , Robert and his maddening Fiftieth Namesday Party. – _That_ was truly when all had truly started to go _wrong_.

 

_As if Robert actually needed a reason to get drunk and act like buffoon..._

 

 _And_ there would also be _Cersei_ and their children... _Gods_... – Well, to be fair, the last two weren’t really unpleasant; the only thing Stannis could really hold against them was that they were Robert and Cersei’s children, and it wasn’t as if they had had a choice on the matter. Nevertheless, the first one clearly made up for where they were ‘ _lacking’_...

... and then there were all the other guests who were going to be there...

... But really... _By all the_ _Gods_... _Robert_... just the being that was _Robert_ : he was an _entity_ in himself.

Stannis was more than convinced that a party dedicated to Robert would just be ten times worse than any other party Robert made sure to attend: the fact that it was ‘ _all about him’_ , would probably encourage Robert to think that he was allowed to get even more drunk (and rude, obnoxious, insufferable...) than other parties, since ' _he could finally let go'_.

 _Gods_... Robert, so many Lannisters, and Stannis, all in the place for a gruelling 3 days... The whole weekend was going to be a complete nightmare; – this journey south was actually a decent into a living _hell_ , with Robert and Cersei to direct this fiasco...

 

Just thinking about it all made Stannis wonder all over again _why_ exactly was he going?

The answer, in two words: _family_ , _duty_.

It was not like Stannis could have said ‘ _no’_ ; he _was_ Robert’s _brother_ ( _unfortunately_ ).

In any case, Robert was more than notorious in quite a lot of circles including military ones due to their grandfather (- but realistically more due to Robert being a patron of most bars throughout Westeros, Army Bars included -) and thus the fact that his older brother was turning fifty was quite well-known, at least the higher ranking officers. Subsequently it just would have created too much of an unnecessary and awkward hassle to have to continually explain why he hadn’t gone (– General Mormont had even made a comment about Robert turning fifty before Stannis received any kind of invitation for the weekend).

( _Sigh_ )

... Perhaps it _was_ for the best that Castle Black Airport had been closed and Stannis had this twelve hour train ride to – _at the very least_ – prepare himself for what was to come.

 

At least Davos had confirmed that Shireen, himself his wife and two of their sons had arrived at the Stormland castle not even a half-hour ago.

Stannis had actually been surprised when finding out Davos and his family had been invited; - not only for Robert to have invited Davos but also for Robert to have actually _remembered_ _who_ Davos even was. Thinking about it further, Stannis was even more astonished that Cersei was ‘ _allowing_ ’ people as ‘ _low-class’_ as Davos and Marya into ‘ _her’_ home. - Then again that might have been the main reason for Robert to have invited Davos and Marya in the first place: knowing it would most probably infuriate his wife... Or the other most plausible explanation was that Robert just loved to have an audience: a large group to drink with and to tell slightly offensive tales of ‘ _men being men’_ with, and, due some less than savoury moments of his past, Davos definitely had a few of those.

Not that Stannis would complain: with Davos there, he would at least have someone to talk to. Moreover, with the two boys being a similar age to Shireen, Stannis was further reassured that if Cersei’s children didn’t want to play with their cousin, his daughter would have his friend’s children to pass the time with...

Even if that failed, there was always _Renly_. - At least Renly seemed to get on with his 7 year old niece well enough (and not scare her slightly with his booming voice and manner, like Robert). And hopefully Renly would prove to be alright company for Stannis to be around during the weekend; although their interests were vastly different, Stannis _did_ get on a whole lot better with Renly than with Robert. - At the very least, Renly wasn’t married to a Lannister...

 _Though_...

Stannis frowned as he remembered Davos’ side comment that Renly also still hadn’t arrived at Storm’s End and that his younger brother was apparently bringing someone with him...

His brows slightly creased further as Stannis thought on the fact that Renly had _never_ brought anyone to family events before. To be honest, Renly had never mentioned anyone or even given any hint to being in some kind of relationship before. – Then again Stannis had to concede that maybe he (- _and Robert_ -) were not the best to talk about women or relationships with, given their own experience on the matter.

Musing on the subject further, Stannis had to acknowledge that Renly was still, for quite a lot of things, a boy at heart, really; never having truly grown up, especially with their parents’ death eleven years ago, when he had barely started adulthood. - Maybe a caring, strong, clear-headed woman was just what his younger brother needed.

He could only hope she wasn’t someone who cared more about his last name and family wealth than Renly himself... Or be a _Lannister_... Or be both: now that would just be disastrous; - Stannis would end up being fully surrounded by them...

 

... Nor did he hope... ( _Sneaking another glance through the reflective glass at his recent added co-passenger_ )... that his brother’s companion was one with possibly loose morals... - Unlike the love sick fool at the other end of the woman's phone conversation Stannis had just been privy to, Stannis had a pretty good idea of what the young lady considered the true ‘ _nature of their relationship_ ’...

Once more he also couldn’t help but wonder more on the conversation (and the woman herself). Even with the quite blunt assertion at the end, it seemed the young lady had (- rather shamelessly, in Stannis’ opinion-) lied to her casual lover: – _yes_ , she was on a train, as she had stated, and yet, the way her face had paled when this ‘ _Harry_ ’ had suggested calling her later... Maybe it was only her fear of his possible future incessant calls, but experience told Stannis that the ‘ _being at_ _rehearsal’_ part of her response had just been an excuse to make sure the man did not call her during the weekend... (whilst she was meeting with another casual lover?).

 

In fact, allowing himself a more complete moment of prejudice, he questioned the actuality of her having sat in a _First Class_ seat.

Maybe it was the fact that Robert and Cersei had tormented his mind for the last few days... Or maybe it was her slightly questionable dress sense: her hair was in one of those fashionable untidy buns, a few strands loosely escaping it to fall delicately on her face and neck (- which somehow gave this look of innocence about her -), an overly large, well-worn, clearly _male_ , slightly outdated military coat (- to his knowledge men would only possibly lend their winter coats to a significant other... then again he was not the most knowledgeable about such things -), and a somewhat tattered bag, but Stannis couldn’t help but think she didn’t really seem like the type of person who could _afford_ a First Class ticket or at least not without possible _additional_ help, that is...

He knew it was wrong for him to judge someone from their outer physical appearance – as the saying goes: ‘ _do not judge a book by its cover’_. And yes, there were quite a lot of attractive women who had perfectly acceptable, even pleasant personalities (though possibly slightly too interested in ‘gossip news’ or designer clothes and other whatnots for his taste and patience)... But it was his experience that attractive women who were past a certain level of beauty to be considered ‘ _gorgeous_ ’ would use their physical attributes to not only make their lives easier but basically expect it and others to be at their disposal.

\- The other men in the carriage might have tried to make it seem as if they haven’t noticed her when she had first opened the compartment door, but by the several glances Stannis had observed once she had passed, it was more than clear that he was definitely _not_ the only one to have noticed her (- even before the ringing of her phone that is -) and that some of the men had actually seemed actually envious that she had sat across from him, rather than them.

Stannis let out a huff at the memory of their sunken faces: – _Blubbering idiots_... _she would most likely eat them alive like she has most probably done with this ‘Harry’ fellow_.

 - In addition to all this, he also could not disregard that this had been her effect to the males of the compartment (- _and possibly one or two females_ -) whilst completely hiding her body; - one Stannis could only suspect was just as bewitching... _enthralling_ as her face.

 

 

As if to answer his musings, that was when the compartment door opened once more and the words _“Tickets, please”_ preceded one of the Cross Westeros Line Company employees.

There was a ripple of people stirred from their seats, placing their tablets and papers on the tables before they reached for coat pockets, or opened suitcases... Putting his own newspaper down, Stannis fumbled through his suit pocket to find his ticket, all the while being conscious of his table partner’s movements: taking a fashionable but slightly worn wallet out of her hand bag and taking out not a ticket but a credit card.

Stannis frowned then. When the lady placed hand, card and wallet on the table (- to then, annoyingly, start tapping her fingers on its surface -) as she waited, the card had been positioned in such a way that, from his seat, he was able to read the first name written on it: ‘ ** _Eddard_** ’, ... not a woman’s name, _the_ woman’s name... nor was it ‘ ** _Harry’_**... - A ‘ _gift’_ from another beau? - The consideration unfortunately made him think once more of Robert, who had most likely changed mistress two or three times since Stannis had seen him last...

 

Before he could think too much about his older brother though, the ticketing clerk thankfully reached them.

His ‘table partner’ gave the man a dazzling smile and “Good Morning” for the man to then seem to freeze in his spot, mouth slightly open, having forgotten the Common Tongue or to do his actual job!

_Gods! She is **just** a pretty face... albeit a very gorgeous, mesmerising one, but just a pretty face!_

With this interaction (and that smile) Stannis this time couldn’t help but wonder if the young lady was hoping for some kind of discount for her first class ticket... that would definitely be something Cersei would expect: – just flicking her hair, batting her eye lids, or saying her name, that woman always expected everyone to cater to her...

... and the clerk seemed to be on the way to be more than accommodating, from that faraway look in his eye.

\- _Utterly ridiculous_...

 

Twelve seconds of absolutely nothing happening, Stannis couldn’t take it anymore and gave a rather loud dry cough. Thankfully that seemed to have done the trick and the ticket controller regained his senses – or at least some of them – and in a slightly squeaky voice finally replied to the young woman, “Good Morning, Madam.”

With another dazzling smile, she requested, “could I get a return ticket between Winterfell and Storm’s End please” before handing to the man the shiny card.

Stannis felt his whole body stiffen. He had been so focused on his internal grumbling (and her rather enchanting voice) that it took him a few moments to register what she had just said, specifically her destination: _Storm’s End_.

_Gods..._

He didn’t even follow the rest of the other two people’s exchange as he processed the news that he would have to spend the _whole_ of the train journey – a whole _nine_ hours still to go – facing this woman, sharing his train table with her, possibly having to listen to more phone calls from other lovers, or being witness to other people's gawk at her!

 

 _By all the Gods,_ he hated being proven right: ‘ _if something is going wrong, it is bound to only get a whole lot worse_ ’.

 

 


	3. The Silence and the Lamb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey south starts off with a bit of a hitch...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok: was going to make the train journey one long-ish chapter but it was just getting wayyyy to long so have given up and have cut it into two parts.  
> Enjoy :)

When the newspaper first lowered Sansa’s could have sworn her brain had short-circuited from seeing the man opposite her for the first time.

The reflection in the train window had not done him justice _at all_ : from the broad shoulders covered in a tailored suit, white shirt, pale grey tie knotted meticulously at his throat, and although Sansa couldn’t see under the table, she could assume there would be long muscled legs in equally well-tailored trousers as well as shiny black leather shoes, even with the snow outside. – This was definitely the type of guy to take care of his appearance.

Shifting her gaze upwards she had then taken in the square jaw, chiselled lips firm and unsmiling (– closer to a frown than anything else really –) long nose, cheekbones sharply etched... But it was his eyes that the glass of the window had dulled the intensity of the most: their impact in the reflection had been commanding, but with no ‘barrier’, so-to-speak, it had been like touching live wire. They weren’t black, like she had first assumed, but a dark stormy blue, fringed with dark lashes, distracting Sansa from the rest of his face for several moments before finally getting a hold of herself and looking down at her hands and wallet, as she had waited for the ticket man.

Now, the ticket clerk having moved on to the next carriage, Sansa could have sworn the man seemed to have gotten _harder_ \- _harsher_ even - in the last few minutes.

His stature and meticulousness, as well as his cold remoteness and general intensity actually made Sansa think of her brother and her dad, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was also a military man? – Although, he was dressed as a civilian. But that could just mean he was on leave. On leave or a civilian: both were a real shame because Sansa was already convinced that he would definitely look _good_ in uniform; whether it be his full dress uniform or the combat or barrack dress... rolling in the mud... ( _Sigh_ ) – In any case, the intensity of his stare could definitely be helpful in the military fighting off – scaring off – the enemy.

But right now she was wondering _why_ it seemed to be directed at _her_?

\- Surely he wasn’t still pissed off about Harry’s phone calls; though he had definitely shown his censure on _that_ particular moment...

Looking around, Sansa soon realised embarrassingly that with Harry and then the ticket-man, she had forgotten to put her suitcase in the overhead shelves. - Could _that_ be reason for him glaring at her?... _Gods,_ _she_ hated when others left their suitcases in the corridor or in the way so it would be understandable for Mr Not-A-Hair-Out-Of-Place being annoyed about her doing it.

Without a moment to loose, she got to her feet, and picked up the bag. With a total lack of grace that would have her first ballet teacher – Ms Mordane – crying in shame, Sansa lifted it on to the shelf and, with several pushes and shoves, it finally settled where it was supposed to... well, more or less, where it was supposed to...

Thankfully, settling back down into her chair, Sansa was also relieved to note that all her coat buttons were still in place. Barely seated however Sansa quickly reflected that she should have probably taken out her ‘arrival outfit’ and gone to change: did she really want to do the whole journey wearing the rather hot winter coat covering her leotard and leggings.

On the other hand, there was still another good eight hours on the train and Sansa didn’t want to look and smell of ballet, train, and sweat than she already did and felt when she finally met Renly's family; she definitely needed to look her best to impress them... - _No_ , she would only change a few stops before Storm’s End.

Decided, she sunk further into the seat and faced forward, to then realise she was facing a large newspaper once more, the tall dark haired stranger having disappeared behind it, the crossword and puzzles/ comics/horoscopes facing her.

 

=

 

This would not do, this would not do _at all_.

By the Seven, Stannis was ashamed of himself: a woman and her (very long smooth) legs had forced him (- _yes_ : _HIM_! Stannis Baratheon!-) to cower away behind his newspaper. - If Robert was here now, he would be howling in laugher: ‘ _his brother, the soldier’_ defeated by a pair of legs... yes, Robert would have found that _hilarious_...

 

 _Gods,_ he was pathetic.

Though, to be fair, how was Stannis supposed to know that when the young lady was (finally) putting her luggage in the rack above, the slit of her navy greatcoat would open and he would have a prime view of a _calf_ , _knee_ and _thigh_ , only enclosed in pale coloured tights, which basically did not have much use.

And now, what was worse was from just that brief glance, Stannis couldn’t help but wonder what _exactly_ she was wearing underneath the overly large coat?

Unfortunately, in lack of the correct answer, a few images to appear in his mind that were definitely not appropriate for a train ride or to have about a complete stranger and which made Stannis both wish and not wish for the young lady to take the coat off...

 

 _Gods... it was official: he was turning into Robert_...

 

Shifting ever so slightly (- _awkwardly_ -) in his seat, and trying to discreetly rearrange himself (mainly his trousers) in his seat, he was incapable a stopping himself from taking another brief glance at his table partner through the reflection of the glass, whilst his newspaper continued to shield him (and his trousers).

She was older than he had first thought, Stannis saw that now: the loose bun, the overly large coat, even her sweet tantalising voice had brought a sense of innocence and carelessness - something curiously _childlike_ \- to the young lady (- even with all the men ogling her and her own curious phone conversation...). - But that had been before he had taken into account of that (rather enticing) calf and thigh...

No, there was definitely nothing youthful and girlish about that leg...

 

 

 

= = =

 

 

 

_“I will take the Rump of lamb with minted potatoes, with a glass of lemon water, please.”_

_“Oh, Sir! I must apologise, but the young lady just took the last lamb. –The risotto as well as the goat-cheese tart are still available, though.”_

 

Sansa had only just returned to reading her book when she heard the brief exchange between the man opposite her and the service attendant, for her to then let out an internal grown: _Oh! For Fuck Sake!_

Already regretting it, she looked up to face both men: the steward, who had the decency to look contrite, was now looking between Sansa and her ever-scowling-at-her table partner. – _Great_. That was just what Sansa needed right now: for Mr Disapproval to censure her even more!

She quickly spoke up, trying to apologise as well as make things right before the tall, dark, brooding man decided to extend his grimace _her_ way:

“Oh, I am so sorry. I hadn’t realised I had taken the last lamb. Please; let the gentleman have it, I will be more than happy to take the tart instead”, finishing the whole statement with her award winning smile at had always gotten her out of a few troubles in school.

Unfortunately, it seemed the man was even immune to her smiles and charms. Instead of thanking her, the scowl she was hoping to not be a further recipient of did in fact deepen. Not to mention his intense dark blue eyes bored into her own. Moreover, she hadn’t noticed earlier, but his voice was low and husky, (- sending a small shiver running through her-) as he spoke to her for the first time:

“I do not require your charity, _Miss_. I am _quite_ sure I will find the risotto perfectly satisfactory.”

Maybe it was her own increasing irritation, or her natural Stark stubbornness and honour, or the fact that she didn’t want the man to huff the rest of the journey about the lamb he did not get (- not that she could actually see him do that -), or he feel like she owed him (- something Baelish or Harry would definitely do -), but Sansa could not let this drop, and addressed more the now very perplexed service attendant rather than the grumpy man:

“No, really, I _insist_ : I will take the goat-cheese tart, and the gentleman will have the last rump of lamb. - I only bought my ticket when on the train, whereas the gentleman was on the train before me, so in all circumstances _he_ should get first pick.”

From the side, she heard a small huff from Mr Disapproval, but otherwise he did not respond. As for Sansa, she kept her focus on the steward, who clearly wanted for this scene to end and to get on, with the rest of the carriage for the first class meals, gave her a relieved nod:

“Duly noted, my-lady, and thank you so much for your understanding and generosity.”

 

=

 

Grumbling, Stannis brought the newspaper up once more, refusing to further acknowledge the blasted woman. – No matter what, _he_ was _not_ going to thank her for her ‘ _understanding and generosity_ ’!

To be perfectly honest, there was _nothing_ to thank: _she_ had chosen to give him the last lamb on her own accord. In any case, as she had just said, if she hadn’t been there in the first place there would have been no unpleasant scene, and Stannis would have gotten his lamb without any trouble!

 

 

 

= = =

 

 

 

Taking another bite of the (surprisingly delicious) puff pastry, cheese and onion, followed by one of her side salad, Sansa couldn’t help but feel her right leg fidget slightly under the table, as a strange restlessness continued to plague her.

It had started not long into the last hour’s ‘ _entertainment’_ of her being face to face with a newspaper whenever she looked up from her book, and now it had transferred to a few odd glances and the occasional sound of cutlery against plate, or glass clinking. And now, for whatever reason, this continual silence what driving her on edge.

Which, to be honest, was really bizarre: being one of five children growing up, as well as now being constantly surrounded by other ballet dancers, Sansa relished moments of peace where no one bothered her. Moreover, she should be more than glad that she was in a comfortable chair, in a silent compartment, and that her table partner didn’t want to rave on about his latest car or how much money he made at the latest stock exchange. – Even the majority of the other tables seemed to be in this hushed mood as well (-though, even they seemed to have the occasional few words exchanged).

What definitely did not help was the fact that the man facing her seemed to be the first person ever to take an instant dislike to her. And, for whatever reason, Sansa really wanted to change his mind... or at least make the constant look of disapproval on his face, every time he seemed to look her way, _lessen_.

 

With an internal sigh, and shake of the head, Sansa chastised herself once more: - _Gods... stop being stupid Sansa, just enjoy your tart and wine_... _enjoy being in First Class_... before forcing her leg to stop fidgeting.

 

She took a long sip of the red... another bite of the tart... another sip of wine...-

\- _Nope... can’t do it: that’s it, I can’t take it anymore_!

Putting on one of her sweetest smiles, she looked up and asked: “So, how is the lamb?”

 

=

 

His hands, along with the fork and knife froze as he was about to cut another piece of meat.

Stannis blinked and then frowned, before coming to the rather obvious conclusion than the young lady had asked _him_ (-yes, _him_ , and not some other random person-) a question. Which then moved him to the question of: _why_?

– Was she asking because she was now regretting her earlier decision to give him the last lamb rack or was this more than that...?

 

Looking up, he answered rather abruptly: “It is fine, thank you; perfectly adequate for train service.”

Meeting his eye, she gave him another mesmerising (- possibly slightly blinding -) smile, before she gave a small chuckle: “I’m glad. The tart is also _perfectly_ _adequate_.”

Stannis blinked again: was... was she trying to _flirt_ with _him_? - Was she now actually trying to _seduce_ him?

A part of him would have most probably been flattered (- _let’s be honest_ : much _more_ than flattered-) that this gorgeous young woman seemed to want to flirt with _him._ That is, if weren’t for the call earlier, as well as the credit card, the coat and the glances from all the other love sick fools in the carriage...

 _No_ \- instead he couldn’t help but wonder if it was because she had possibly noticed the quality of his suit or the make of his watch or just simply the fact that _he_ could afford his own First Class ticket, and thought him an easy mark?... Or maybe she was the sort of woman that kept a tally of how many men she could win over in a journey?...

Well, whatever her game, Stannis would _not_ be playing it. Nor would he swoop down to the level of those blubbering idiots. – _No, sir_.

 

Determined, he did not even bother to return the remark and possibly incur an _actual_ conversation, and a sort of rapport with this woman and make her think she had any power over him. Instead, he just gave a curt nod before returning once more to enjoy his meal, hopefully, with no more disturbances.

 

=

 

Sansa blinked: Wow - _Mr Disapproval really did forget to take that broom out of his ass this morning, didn’t he._

 

Quickly realising that the rest of her journey would probably be in a very similar manner - aka: Mr Disapproval being a grump-git - she very reluctantly admitted defeat.

However, seeing as she was most likely going to also spend the rest of the journey facing the puzzles and entertainment section of his newspaper (and her book was actually pretty boring), Sansa spoke once more, though this time slightly nervous: “Excuse me...”

The two dark blue eyes met her own, annoyance palpable on his face and in his voice: “ _Yes_?”

Cheeks slightly tinting in embarrassment, her palms going slightly sweaty, Sansa felt her throat tighten as she asked: “I was wondering: are... are you going to read... I mean, are you going to _do_ any of the puzzles on the entertainment page of your newspaper?”

The dark blue eyes blinked.

With his lack of any other kind of response, Sansa pushed forward, her voice wobbling further: “It’s...it’s just that I really liked doing the crossword as well as all the mind-puzzles...” tensing further at the continued silence she blabbered on: “... I think it would be a waste to use a whole other paper just to get the entertainment section... and let’s not forget read my horoscope and the comic-strips...”

\- _Gods_... she sounded like a complete idiot: he probably now thought that she actually _only_ wanted to read her horoscope like some ditz; them and the comic-strips the only bit of the newspaper she only ever read...

 

=

 

Stannis had been so caught off guard by her request that it took him a few minutes to realise what exactly the young woman had asked him.

He had first thought she wanted to continue talking about his lamb (- _By the Seven_ , he really should have insisted she have it, if she was going to go on and on pestering him about it! -) or had wondered if she was going to try and flirt with him some more. But he had definitely not excepted something as innocent as wanting the last page of the newspaper, to do and read the different diversion bits. – _Gods_ , he had most likely looked like a bloody idiot, just staring at her, mouth gaping.

Unease taking over, he answered as quickly and as briefly as possible for this whole exchange to end. Regrettably, however, it was only after he gave her his customary curt nod and a tight ‘ _yes’_ that Stannis realised that _he_ had been looking forward to doing the crossword puzzle, and even the Sudoku (though it was usually quite easy), once he had finished reading the various news articles.

 _Great_ \- she had even managed to ruin crossword-time for him!

However, being a man of his word, he knew he couldn’t go back on his answer; even if it was a silly promise to a... a... a... a woman ( _Gods_ \- he really was turning into Robert, wasn't he). Not to mention the fact that he really didn’t want to her to think him a complete idiot by trying to explain to her that he hadn’t realised what exactly she had asked him before he had accepted.

In any case, she most likely thought _'he owed her_ ', since her earlier ‘ _generosity_ ’ of ‘giving’ him ‘ _her_ ’ lamb.

 

With another grumble he then thought: _She probably doesn’t even want to do the crossword... just wanted an excuse to be able to read the horoscopes and look at the comic strips_...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =
> 
> =
> 
> In addition to the pics, here are a few ideas/inspirations of what I am thinking Sansa is wearing under her Royal Navy Greatcoat:
> 
> <http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R6J-wcSOrSY/T2d-u2WKNQI/AAAAAAAAAgY/2BPvSOVhh98/s1600/outfit001.png>
> 
> <http://www.superiorpics.com/movie_pictures/mp/2006_Step_Up/2006_step_up_030.jpg>


	4. The Last Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Train Journey - Part 2

 

After giving another brief glance through the window’s reflection, noting a sleeping form curled up on itself, Stannis gave out a long sigh before he finally put the newspaper down.

By All the Gods, he was pathetic.

Here he was, unable to face a young beautiful woman; actually resorting to hiding behind a newspaper and read certain news articles twice, to make sure to not incite any sort of conversation between the two of them. - Genuine relief had run through him when he had first noted that the stillness of her posture; especially since his arms were starting to tire, stiffen even.

_Westeros Times_ folded on the table, Stannis gave the young woman a quick look: - _yes, definitely asleep_.

It was more than the serenity surrounding her that confirmed her current state of slumber; it was that the whole energy that was her had been dimed to a small flicker. It was like the sun going out, leaving darkness and cold: she even had turned up the big collar of her greatcoat, wrapped and settled fully into it, making him think of a small burrow animal hibernating.

_Sleep_... why could it come so simply to some whilst it continued to elude him? Just looking at her, regarding those loose strands of auburn hair tumbling across her face, fluttering with each soft, steady breath, made him aware of the exhaustion in his own shoulders, called to the long hours of work he had left back at Castle Black, reminded him of the strange dreams plaguing his most recent nights with stags, wolves, and lions...

_Sigh_...

At least the young lady, her curious (- _slightly suspicious_ -) behaviour, her striking looks, her intriguing clothing (- _or most probably lack of clothing under that coat_ -), and the slight sense of ‘ _diablerie’_ surrounding her had jolted him out of his forbidding weekend ahead...

As well as successfully in making this train journey more much _interesting_ than he had first anticipated. There had definitely some ‘ _entertainment’_ joining in with his slight frustration, in following the progression of all her possible admirers: the phone call, the credit card, the coat, the other First Class passengers, the train employees... and that rather startling moment when they had stopped at the Twins with the group of young men laughing from outside the train who seemed to know the young lady rather well, or, at least the one she had waved back at...

... If only she hadn’t also ruined his newspaper (- mostly his crossword -) enjoyment at the same time; the thought making him frown once more as he glanced down at the desired item.

 

With another sneak at the sleeping form, he placed a finger on the newspaper page and slowly slid it to his side of the table. – It _had_ been his newspaper page first...

Looking though what she had filled in, Stannis first checked the Sudoku: all seemed to be correct (- though he had previously thought they usually were quite easy). His interest then turning to its main objective, the crossword, Stannis was impressed by the number of words already filled in; - though it was best that he check her answers... _just to be sure_...

After several long minutes looking through all her answers, Stannis was now overcome with a sense of admiration for the young lady: she had actually done rather well. – _No_ , _more_ than well: over half the board was already filled, all of them correct answers, even some Stannis either hadn’t remembered himself:

\- **_A ruler, an exile, a refugee, a warrior queen, a burner of ships_ (7):** _Nymeria_

\- **_Separated or distinct_ (8)** – _Discrete_

... Or was surprised that the young lady knew:

- ** _Youngest Commander of the Night’s Watch_ (5-5)** : _Osric Stark_

\- **_The Laughing Storm_ (6-9)** : _Lyonel Baratheon_

\- **_Valar Dohaeris_ (3-3-4-5): **_All Men Must Serve_

 

Nevertheless, as there were still a few blanks, his praise quickly shifted to his own reflection of these missing answers.

After some reflection he had already found three:

**_Rich and full in sound_** **(8)** – _sonorous_

**_To implant by repeated statement or admonition; teach persistently and earnestly_** **(9)** – _inculcate_

**_A reversal in the order of words in two otherwise parallel phrases_** **(8)** \- chiasmus

Which had now led Stannis to an impasse of sort: part of him (- a rather large part of him-) wondered if he could add his found solutions to the board... Surely she wouldn’t mind; it _had_ been _his_ crossword puzzle before it was _hers_ : it came from _his_ newspaper, which _he_ had paid for!

On the other hand, Stannis had ‘ _given’_ it to her, and he knew how irritating it could be for someone to add something without consent; imposing themselves on your work (– especially when, at least in his case, they would usually get it wrong)!

Stannis shifted in his seat as he grumbled further on his dilemma. The real questions were: would the lady mind? And would he care for her possible resentment (- especially since _she_ hadn’t seemed bothered by the constant distractions she had put _him_ through earlier-)?

 

\- _Suddenly_ his internal battle was interrupted by movement from the facing chair.

Stannis froze, thinking he had been caught. – How exactly would he explain why he was looking down at her work, a pen already in his hand, his finger tips twitching in eagerness to write his own finds?

However, as he lifted his gaze from the page, instead of finding a pair of blue eyes possibly glaring at him, ready to lecture him, Stannis found himself face to face (- _welll_... _actually_ _not_ **_face_** -) with a significant amount of pale _skin_ and _cleavage_.

He found himself blinking several times before fully realising _what_ exactly he was looking at, before sanity seemed to give him a great kick in a certain (- _very affected_ -) part of his anatomy, and Stannis shifted his gaze away.

Brain finally functioning properly (- blood starting flow to _other_ _parts_ of his body and not just _south_ -) it was then that Stannis realised, with some relief, that he hadn’t _actually_ been ogling the naked chest of the perfect stranger in front of him for quite a few minutes, but that she was actually wearing _something_ : a very light coloured, _very_ form fitting top. – To be honest, it seemed more like an outfit more suitable and appropriate for in ones bedroom, or at least in the privacy or ones home, rather than for in a train or an outfit to wear in snowy Winterfell, even with a large winter coat that was supposed (- _and failing_ -) to be covering it.

All this boiled down to the very simple truth that: Stannis was not to blame, not too blame _at all_... not even for some of his own reactions from spying on her outfit (- reactions that were refusing to fully go away whilst the alluring figure was still _there in front of him_ ). He was a red-blooded male after all... Not to mention, one that had been in the very _cold_ , very _male-based_ Castle Black for the past year.

In any case: he was not the one who had a strange desire to prance around nearly naked under his coat! – If you decide to dress like that, you have to been ready for the appropriate (- _and not-so-appropriate-_ ) reactions it will warrant!

 

Even as his internal monologue-rant continued, Stannis couldn’t stop his eyes more than once return to the rather enticing image offered in front of him: the porcelain skin, the creamy swell of her cleavage as it softly rose and fell-

- _Stop_!

Unfortunately, even as he shut his eyes and then looked out to the (- not at all interesting-) scenery and willed himself to think about anything else (- _literally anything else_!-) the images were now unfortunately ingrained in his mind. – To be honest they had probably become a permanent fixture in his brain from the first second of seeing them.

And yet, part of him (-the part related to Robert, most likely-) wanted to take a further look... even through the reflective glass-

- _STOP_!

_By All the Gods_ , he clearly had spent too long at the Wall and away from the female population...

At least they further confirmed his earlier assessment of her being actually older than he had first thought.

_Gods_... why did it have to be so hard to not look... ( _Literally hard_!)

 

=

Sansa came to with a jolt, and a horrible sense that something was wrong.

After the initial shudder, she slowly started to stir from the semi-foetal position she was in, before blinking, trying to gather her surroundings (and not think too much on the very Alice-in-Wonderland-esque dream she just had of falling down a long rabbit-hole type tunnel and large Cheshire-cat-like-eyes staring at her, although with them being a rather intense dark blue rather than the purple).

Looking outside, she first realised that the soft jerk of the train entering a station had soothed her out of her sleep.

That is until she soon became very much aware of not only a faint cool breeze on her chest area but, looking down to investigate, Sansa noticed that her coat had fallen open, no doubt giving Mr Disapproval in the seat opposite quite an eyeful – _Oohhh no, no, no... Oh Freaking Old Gods_!

Embarrassment seizing her all over, she couldn’t help but glance through the reflection in the window as she quickly wrapped the greatcoat securely around her and closing the buttons. Thankfully he didn’t seem to be looking at her at all; his face seemed impassive and remote as he focused on the newspaper that was now lowered onto the table.

In fact, at the lack of any kind of reaction or even acknowledgment of her ‘show’, Sansa couldn’t help but feel stupidly slightly disappointed (– especially after all the lewd looks from those idiots in the first carriage).

_Gods I’m an idiot: why should I care that I had no affect on a man by flashing him_?!

 

... At least the newspaper barrier seemed to have ended.

Though, to be fair the rest of the journey hadn’t been all that bad, even with facing a wall of paper during most of it. - He had been nice enough to pass her the page, as he had promised, and, since then, Sansa had spent most of her time focused on it: read her horoscope, the comic strips, before completing the Sudoku and quite a fair amount of the crossword before dozing off.

The only uncomfortable moment was when they had arrived at the Twins: Sansa’s focus as well as Mr Disapproval’s reading had both been interrupted by several ‘ _joyful’_ knocks at the window, by her side. Baffled, she had looked to notice the guy – _Ramsay Bolton_ – outside waving at her with a great big grin on his face, whilst his friends were sniggering like idiots in the background. So self conscious and mortified, cheeks starting to redden, especially feeling another glare of disapproval coming through the newspaper in front of her, Sansa had the only thing she could think of: wave back with a small smile.

 

Thinking about it (-and the man’s frown-) Sansa should be relieved that she hadn’t received another scowl for her slight moment of accidental ‘exhibition’.

 

 

= = =

 

 

Stannis couldn’t take it anymore.

The only thing that seemed to stop him from thinking of certain parts of the young lady was give his focus to the crossword that was placed on the table between them (- it seemed to be either that or thinking about this weekend; something he refused to do!).

Unfortunately, much like the images now etched in his mind till his dying day, it was as if the entertainment page was _taunting_ him... _begging_ him to speak...

His previous stalemate situation (-before the ‘ _coat incident’_ -) came back to the front of his mind as he observed her through his lashes: her slightly puckered brow, the pen slowly moving between two of her fingers not quite touching the page or table, her left hand twirling one of the loose strands through it, the small bite of her lower lip allowing the edge of her top front teeth visible...

It was now actually even worse, because as much as he usually hated when people included themselves in his crossword time, Stannis wanted to help her also by the sheer necessity for all this to end; - She had actually managed to make doing the crossword look erotic: picturing something else between her finger, his own teeth biting her lip, his hands combing through her hair... –

\- _For the Seven’s Sake_! _STOP_!

And there was no point in trying to hide behind his newspaper and try to read any news article for the third time: the only thing he would start thinking about was a certain expanse of porcelain skin and a tight pale-beige top...

... In any case the newspaper was perfectly fine where it was: half covering the table, half covering his trousers and _other_ things.

Gods the whole situation was lamentable!

 

=

 

_“Excuse me?”_

Teeth letting go of her lip, Sansa looked up from the puzzle, at the call. She actually felt herself blink (-her mouth also possibly slightly gaping-) as she realised the rough voice had been indeed her table-duo. Meeting his dark blue gaze, Sansa couldn’t help but notice that he seemed to shift a little in his seat, as if uncomfortable ( - ... or maybe embarrassed?-) with what he was about to ask her.

Trying to reassure him, she gave him a small smile with her soft: “ _Yes_?” hoping he wasn’t about to reprimand her about something.

His voice definitely a bit rough (- _dry?_ -): “I was wondering if you would like any assistance?”

Sansa blinked: “Assistance?”

He was clearly embarrassed as a small tinge of red started to appear on his cheeks and neck: “I mean: I couldn’t help but look at the crossword whilst... _hum_ , whilst you were sleeping and I found a few of the missing answers... – I was wondering if you would like some help?”

Her perplexed look soon transformed to a smile, finally understanding not only what he wanted but the source of his awkwardness: “Oh! Of course, of course: I would love the help, thank you.” Grinning further, she added: “In any case it was _your_ crossword before it was ever _mine_. – If you are interested, we could do it together?”

However the suggestion seemed to have paled the man slightly, even making him blink rapidly a few times. Sansa hesitated, her smile dimming somewhat wondering if she had messed it up by going too far and too excited, too quickly:

“I mean, we don’t have to... I just thought it could be fun: finishing the crossword together; -two heads are better than one, that sort of thing...”

There was a slight pause, before he gave a strange jerk of the head and cleared his throat: “ _Hum_ , Yes... fine. That’s... that’s fine... _hum_ \- _yes_ : two heads... _hum_... better than one...”

Grin back in place, she couldn’t stop herself from letting her delight and eagerness show: “Great!... So what were the words you found?”

 

 

= = =

 

 

Sansa gave her back a slight stretch, before closing her eyes and doing a full turn of her neck, trying to get the small crick to go away. The movement done but unsuccessful, she gave another small sigh before looking back towards the crossword and her table-duo.

Her voice slightly downcast she asked: “So... any ideas with the last one?”

Gazed briefly at her, before his brows creased once more: “No, unfortunately not; it’s quite the conundrum.”

For the past hour or so, after Mr (less) Grumpy had told her his three words, they had spent their time focusing on finishing the crossword together. It had surprisingly gone rather well (-except for a small moment where he chastised her about grammar being a fundamental part of the Common Tongue-): her table partner had found a few more than her but Sansa had held her own and had found another four.

And now here they were: all filled in, except for one.

Her small pout forming, Sansa tried to think what it could be: **_grasping, elongating, ever changing, ever rotating, but ever slow-moving_** **(9)**

 

Unfortunately neither of them seemed to have gotten anywhere several minutes later when Sansa felt the distinct movements of the train rolling into another station.

Looking up as it slowed down to a stopped, she noticed they had arrived at Sow’s Horn: - _Oh! Only one other stop before Storm’s End_.

Thinking this was a good moment as any (-especially seeing as they were stuck with the crossword-) Sansa decided she might as well go get changed in her ‘arrival attire’.

Looking to her crossword-buddy, she gave him a small smile as she asked a little nervously (and ending up biting her lip): “Excuse me?”

His frown (-one of concentration and not disproval, Sansa was happy to point out-) smoothed on his forehead as his blue eyes met her own: “Yes? – Have you found the solution?”

Her smile dimmed somewhat as Sansa reluctantly replied: “No, sorry. – I need to change before arriving at Storm’s End. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind looking after my stuff whilst I went to go change in the lavatory? – I’m sure it would be fine, and no one would want to steal anything (especially in First Class) but just in case...?”

“ _Ch-change_?... _Oh_ \- right, of course, yes: that is perfectly fine.”

Beaming, Sansa quickly thanked him: “Great – thank you so much” before standing up and retrieving her bag, to get her chosen clothes (-whilst making sure her coat buttons didn’t accidentally open... not that he seemed to care).

 

=

 

Stannis tried not to let his eyes follow the lady’s retreating form too much as she went to go change (-as he had tried to not pay attention to much to see if he would possibly get another glimpse of leg... or worse cleavage, when she had grabbed her bag from overhead). Nor did he try to think too much on what possible outfit she would be changing into (or the fact that she was about to remove her coat and the flimsy excuse of a top and tights whilst in the train lavatory). – _No_ ; – instead he tried to force himself to concentrate on the (not as interesting) brain teaser in front of him.

To be completely honest (and Stannis prided himself on usually being), he had been pleasantly surprised by the last hour. – Yes, there had been a few (slightly interesting) stretches, soft moans and sighs, as well as her pout and biting her lip occasionally had been rather distracting, but, apart from those moments, the experience of doing a crossword with another person had been rather... _pleasant_... - _Yes_ : _pleasant_.

As the lady had said: Two heads (- _minds-_ ) were better than one... (- _for the crossword...nothing else_...)

And, they _had_ focused on the _crossword_ ; there had been no idle chit-chat, nor had she seemed to try and flirt with him some more. – Although, frustratingly, the last hour had also confirmed further that he was slowly becoming a second Robert, as everything she said, Stannis seemed to now find _two_ meanings for: a rather innocent one (-one she most likely meant-) and a ‘ _Robert one_ ’ (-one that had Stannis’ imagination going insane just based on her words and the ‘ _coat incident’_ ). Regrettably, all of this also did not help in trying to figure out the last few words; - Stannis was sure he would have completed the puzzle by now, without certain distractions right in front of him...

Even for this last definition Stannis could only think of certain things (- that were definitely not the correct answer-) for **_grasping, elongating, ever changing, ever rotating, but ever slow-moving_** **(9)**.

 

 

= = =

 

 

They had nearly reached Kings Landing when Stannis felt her unmistakable presence nearing their table.

Even as the shadow announcing her return appeared from the corner of his eye, Stannis forced himself to only look up once she was seated; - even if he was slightly eager to tell her he had found the last word (as well as see this change in her ‘ _clothing_ ’).

However, when he did finally lift his gaze from the crossword, Stannis only managed to move his eyes halfway before his mind momentarily blanked.

For several seconds, he was left to wonder if it was the same person who had come back; the young lady ‘changing’ had been a complete transformation: the messy hair bun, with the strands loosely escaping it and the tight outfit were now a rather sleek elegant bun-roll thing, with only two small loose strands framing her face, whilst the outfit was a white coloured (still form-fitting but not as much as the top) dress, with a rather attractive bow-scarf-thing at the neck, that showed off the whole of her arms (as she had finally taken off the coat) as well as her calves and knees (but regrettably not her thighs).

\- She had gone from a rather sensual siren to sophisticated classic beauty...

... One that unfortunately reminded him vaguely of his sister-in-law.

 

Thankfully by the time she had put her previous ‘outfit’ in her bag, put the suitcase once more over head (Stannis getting a spellbinding glimpse of the backless aspect of her dress), and settled herself properly in her seat, Stannis had been able to shake himself (somewhat) from (most) of his absurd (Robert-tending) thoughts.

Forcing his tone to stay pleasant as well as his throat to loosen, Stannis announced: “I found the final word.”

She blinked a few times before the statement registered, and gave him another mesmerising smile (-one she most likely used quite a bit-): “Oh really?! That’s great! What is it?”

Stannis returned with a tight non-smile: “Chameleon.”

 

\- _Yes_... not too different from their lizard with the highly developed ability to change, his table-crossword partner seemed quite the _chameleon_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =
> 
> An idea of what I imagine her dress and hair to look like.
> 
> \- Couldn't seem to decide between these images, so its more a mix of them: white dress, with a 'bow-scarf-thing' at the front like Stannis tried to describe, and her back has a slight backless aspect to it, as for the hair: I was thinking of an elegant banana bun:


	5. Phone Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Train Journey - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I wont be able to upload tomorrow, decided to upload the next chapter today, Enjoy ;P

 

 

Stannis had never been more thankful for something in his life than when they closed into Kings Landing Train Station, as well as knowing that they would be stationed at the capital for a good ten minutes before continuing further south.

\- He definitely needed some air and to stretch his legs... something to relieve some of his pent up tension...

 

For the last five minutes Stannis had found a new fascination for women putting on makeup, as he hadn’t been able to stop himself from taking several discreet glimpses (mainly through the glass reflection) of the young lady putting on mascara (- _that is what it’s called right?_ -), making her lashes seem longer and darker whilst the blue of her eyes seemed to become more dazzling, before his gaze followed the movements of her hand as it delicately painted her lower lip and then higher lip in a darker shade to her natural soft pink. - From her first attire he would have assumed that a deep _fiery_ red would have been the young lady’s chosen lipstick colour; however with this radical change in appearance, she had gone for a softer red – a tone making him think of raspberries - that surprisingly went well with her auburn hair.

As captivated as he was by the display, his thoughts darkened: - Yes, not too different from Robert’s wife, she seemed to confirm further the dangers and wiles of beautiful women...

... It was most likely the first time Stannis had been grateful for thoughts about Cersei Lannister as it had cooled his _ardour_ as well as his previous growing interest for the young lady.

 

Once the train came to a full stop, Stannis wasted little time to go out on the platform to call Davos.

  

=

 

Giving herself a final once over in her hand mirror, Sansa gave herself a satisfied smile, more than pleased with the outcome: black mascara to make her eyes pop, a light touch of blush, add her Chanel lipstick _Rouge Allure_ – shade ‘ _Palpitante_ ’ that Renly had gotten her for her last namesday, and she looked ready to take on any high-class bitch or prick Renly’s family would throw at her. – _Damn, I look goooood_...

Putting all back in her bag, her lips twitched slightly as she recalled even (- _finally_ -) having some kind of a reaction from her table partner: when she had come back from the lavatory Sansa had definitely noted the slight pause and once-over he had done her outfit before giving her final word of the crossword.

On the other hand, since then, he seemed to have turned cold once more (-not that Sansa could really describe him as ‘ _warm’_ during their ‘ _crossword partnership’_ ). She found herself frowning slightly as she couldn’t figure out if it was just because the crossword now over he had just reverted back to his old self or if it was something about _her_ that had made him distant all over again...

Looking outside, she couldn’t help but think it was a bit of a shame, because she had actually enjoyed their time doing the crossword together; he had actually seemed rather nice... pleasant and polite, at least, and he had actually seemed to be impressed by her intellect (and not her looks like most men she met)... Not to mention, there was the mere fact that he actually liked doing the crossword and was good at it: Sansa had never found anyone to do it with: neither her family nor her friends (not even Renly!) had the patience for it after a few minutes... and they usually gave several wrong answers... There was even something about his calm demeanour made her think of her father (- _not,_ in some weird incestuous way though – definitely not!).

If she wasn’t about to meet Renly’s family and spend a whole weekend with them she might have been tempted to have asked him a bit more about himself and maybe even suggest go for a cup of coffee, if he didn’t live too far from Winterfell (- he had been on the train before her).

_Sigh..._

Maybe it was for the best that he had reverted back to his stony-self...

 

_Although_...

Her gaze following him as he continued to talk on the phone with someone, his back turned to her gave Sansa an excellent view of his broad shoulders as well as confirming her previous thoughts as she was able to spy on his skilfully tailored black trousers: - whom ever had done the stitching was skilled enough for his trouser to hang very nicely whilst showing off just enough butt and hard legs. - Even if he clearly a bit older than her, as well as the fact of being a dancer made her definitely appreciated the male form, Sansa definitely would not have minded seeing more of those legs and muscles...

With a long sigh, she forced her eyes away from his backside: _such a shame_...

 

-

 

It was a few minutes later, just as the doors closed, when he returned, phone still in hand, scowling at something on the screen. Looking up, it was then that Sansa noticed that he had the same iPhone as her!

Brain Buzzing, she quickly scrambled to look under the table: _Yes! Sockets_!

 

=

 

_Gods... it has already started_...

His reprieve from the young lady hadn’t actually been all that appeasing: his call to Davos had only been an preamble to the hell awaiting him at Storm’s End from what his friend had told him: Robert was already drinking, as was his wife - who it seemed had already gotten into some kind of argument with her youngest brother insisting that he was only supposed to arrive the following day, the day of the actual party... His nephew, Joffrey, had arrived from Kings Landing, bringing with him a girlfriend (- _a Tyrell!_ -) that Cersei seemed to already hate, Robert already looked at as if _she_ was _his_ namesday present... Renly had also arrived but apparently was getting rather worried since he could not get hold of his companion who was supposed to arrive from somewhere else...

... At least Davos was able to reassure him that Shireen, for the most part, was oblivious to all this and was getting along fine with her younger two cousins as well as with Devan and Stannis Seaworth.

 

Thoughts still on what he had to look forward to, Stannis was caught off guard when upon his return to his seat, he was accosted by large blue eyes looking straight at him as if he was his table-duo’s saviour, having come to rescue her from grave and imminent danger (- eliciting a slight thrill to run through him, before he chastised himself for his very Robert response):

“Excuse me. I noticed we share the same phone model; – I can’t help but ask would you happen to have your phone charger with you? and if so, would you mind terribly if I could borrow it to charge my own?”

She finished the request by lifting her phone as if to prove that she wasn’t lying and her phone was really out of battery. (- Her statement also explained why the calls from her admirer (admirers?) had stopped...)

 

Perhaps it was the fact that his mother had raised him with manners and a sense of honour and decorum to help a lady in trouble, or the helpless look on her face (and maybe the small bite of her lip), but Stannis found himself quickly agreeing and pulling out his phone charger from his suitcase, to then be met with a darker shaded (and thus, slightly even more alluring) smile.

\- _By the Seven_ , he was nearly as bad as the blubbering fool who had called her earlier...

 

=

 

As soon as the phone had enough battery to turn back on, there was a chorus of chirps and vibrations indicating multiple missed calls and unread text messages. - Even whilst concentrating on her phone, Sansa could feel the not-impressed eyebrow raising and frown coming from the other side of the table (- _yep, definitely much colder_ ).

Putting Mr Disproval to the back of her mind, Sansa took note of the several missed calls and one (very long) text from Harry, one from Monsieur Baelish (-most probably having decided to change one of the choreographies for the millionth time-), another missed call this time actually from Dad, but the record holder was Renly who was mostly panicking by now, thinking that Sansa was not able to come:

\- _Yep_ \- _three missed calls and six frantic messages_. _I better call him back before he does something very stupid_.

She waited a few more minutes for the battery to charge more before Sansa took her phone to the secluded area between First and Second Class, all the while pressing the call button for ‘ _Renly_ ’.

 

The phone had barely rung, when it was answered by her ‘ _boyfriend_ ’s frantic voice:

_“Sansa! Finally! – By the Seven! I have been trying to get you for the last twenty-four hours!”_

Sansa couldn’t help but roll her eyes – Renly really did like to dramatise and exaggerate things:

“Renly, I talked to you just after rehearsal, _ten_ hours ago, saying I was heading for the train station and would hopefully be able to catch the last train arriving tonight.”

_“And you did,_ right _? – Tell. Me. You._ DID _?!?!?!”_

Letting out a long sigh, holding back on rolling her eyes once more – _and my family says I theatrical_? – Sansa reassured him:

“Yes Renly – I am on my way. I am your knight in shining armour; I have travelled across many lands, I have ridden my valiant stead (- the train-) for nine hours to get to you as fast as possible. I have even gorgeous-ed (- yes, Renly, I know that’s not a real word-) myself up for you, following your guided words: ‘ _tasteful, chic, elegant’_ for your family and ‘ _with an edge of bitchiness_ ’ for your sister-in-law.”

She could hear the nod of approval coming from the phone:

“ _Oh Sansa, you_ are _my knight in shining armour... If only you were a guy, I would have definitely taken off that armour by now and had my way with you! –_ sigghhh _... Anyways... Thank you so, so much for doing this; I cannot stress how much of a life saver you are – Godsss, Big-old-Bob is already on his fifth glass and Queen of the Seven Hells doesn’t seem too far behind, and don’t even let me get started on Mini-King of the Assholes. Do you know who he brought with him? – Margaery! As in Loras’ sister, Margaery! I wonder if he knows his sister is going out with the devil’s spawn... But will discuss more of that later: all that_ you _need to know and remember now is that_ I _am_ your _sun, your moon, your stars, the reason you get up in the morning, the reason you can’t sleep at night, the reason you live, breathe..._ I _am your_ everything _... Do think you can handle that_?”

This time Sansa did roll her eyes a second time:

“ _Please_...I have survived four brothers and _Arya_ , have endured the ‘ _Drowned God’s Gift to Women’_ Theon Greyjoy _and_ Monsieur Baelish, was both Homecoming and Prom Queen in High School, and have been the Prima in a Ballet Company for over a year, which is basically Bitch-Back-Stabbing Central.”

_“All of this is very true, my love, but I feel have I to warn you once more: this is_ my _family you are about to meet: there are_ none _worse than them. Robert puts Theon Greyjoy and Little-fuckers-Baelish to shame, my other brother, Stannis, basically dislikes of everyone – except for maybe his daughter and his only friend – and is essentially the only asexual being I have ever known (- Cersei even once stated that she would have better luck seducing a horse than him -), speaking of which: Cersei would make all those ballet-bitches you work with seem to like many ‘Baelor the Blessed come-again’._

_As for her firstborn, he makes me think of that psychotic kid in ‘The Good Son’ that kills his brother, - or, actually, better yet, with Cersei as its mother: the Omen. – Seriously I am half convinced he is not even Robert’s, but just a male-mini version of Cersei that she created in a science lab somewhere with only her DNA... And don’t even get me started on_ her _family... Seriously Sansa, I really hope those hours of train were relaxing because you are_ literally _about to enter Dante’s Inferno: the lust, the gluttony, the greed, the wrath, the violence, even probably heresy, the fraud, the treachery, it’s ALL there, Sansa, for THREE days!!! Three Days Sansa!”_

“Don’t worry Renly: I decided to take on your plight and come challenge your many foes from the Seven Hells, and I did so in _style_ : I got a first class seat which was more than comfortable to rest in and had a very tasty goat cheese tart for lunch, with a glass of wine!...”

Glancing through the glass inside the First Class compartment, she looked over at her tall, dark and intense table-duo and added with a sigh: “- The only small downer is my table-guy: Mr Disapproval, scowling at me for most of the trip and seems to be immune to my smiles and feminine charm!”

For some reason, it did not seem right to mention the crossword experience that she had shared with her table partner, even with Renly; – she felt like it was truly something of her own.

Oblivious to her slight confused mood, Renly exclaimed in mock horror: “ _Are you telling me there is a guy out there that hasn’t fallen under the Sansa Stark Charm?! – Even us gay men fall under its spell! Gods he has to either be a robot or my brother.”_

 

There was a slight pause, before Renly gave a real gasp this time: “ _\- Wait! Sansa: you’re in the last train coming from Winterfell, right?_

Slight frown of confusion forming, Sansa replied: “Yes, as I just told you.”

_“... and you just passed Kings Landing?”_

Even more confused and now starting to feel as if her best friend had a sixth sense he had forgot to mention in their four-year friendship, Sansa voice wavered: “Y-yes, the train just left Kings Landing about ten-fifteen minutes ago...”

_“And you are in First Class?”_

“Y-yes.”

There was a slight pause, before she heard Renly clear his throat:

_“Sansa... is there any chance that this guy – Mr Disapproval – has short-ish black hair, slightly starting to recede, very dark – darker than mine – usually quite intense blue eyes (as if ready to face any foe), and has a permanent scowl on his face, slightly taller and a bit of a bigger build to me, and is either wearing a military uniform or a quite pricy but dark-colourless suit?”_

Sansa blinked – _Wait, what?_ – before she looked around her and then into the First Class Carriage: No, Renly wasn’t here, and yes, this was still Westeros; - _no_ , she hadn’t fallen in some alternate reality where Renly was All-Knowing...

“ _Umm_ OK, Renly – how did you do that? How did you know what he looked like?”

_“Oh my Old and New Gods, really?!! I was right?! – Hahaha!!!- This is hilarious!”_

Not getting at all the joke, and not at all liking being kept out of the loop, Sansa started to pout: “ _Renly..._ what is hilarious? ... Are - are you laughing at me?”

She heard a few more chuckles before Reny finally got a hold of himself and cleared his throat: “ _Hum... Sorry Sansa, no, I am not making fun of you; if anything I am making fun of ‘Mr Disapproval’. – It’s quite hilarious, if you think about it, how I can just spot him anywhere from such a basic description of him scowling and being immune to one of the most gorgeous women I have ever met.”_

Sansa felt her eyebrows raised, what-ever she was expecting was _not_ that: “Wait! – You mean you know him? You know _Mr Disapproval_?”

_“Oh yes – all too well: he’s my other brother, he’s Stannis.”_

Sansa blinked before her mouth formed a silent ‘ _Oh’_. - Check that: Sansa was definitely not expecting _that_. And then she paled as she looked once more through the glass separator – _Ohhhh craaappppppp_...

“You mean to tell me the guy I spent the last nine hours facing is your _brother_... as in your family... one of the people also coming to Storm’s End, for your other brother’s namesday?!”

In a voice far too cheerful, Renly confirmed: _“Yep- That’s right.”_

 

The whole train ride flashing through her mind, Sansa let out a groan: _Nooooo_...

 

_“To be honest it’s probably best if you introduce yourself to him now: as you justly pointed out, he will be at the house for the next three days as well.”_

“Are you crazy! – Renly: this guy probably thinks I am some kind of weirdo floozy from some back alley!”

_“What? –_ Why _? – Actually we don’t have time for that now, you’ll just explain everything to me when you arrive; right now just go introduce yourself to Stannis.”_

Sounding like a petulant child: “I-I don’t want to...?”

_“Sansa are you pouting?... Does that mean you are scared of talking to my older brother? – You, who not ten minutes ago was telling me you could face Robert, Cersei, Joffrey...”_

“No, I’m not pouting... and I’m definitely _not_ scared... I’m just... just...”

Renly sighed at the other end from her childishness: “ _Tell you what, give him the phone and tell him say ‘_ Renly’ _would like to speak to him. – And don’t make any grammar mistakes when you speak to him!”_

“What?!”

_“Sansa – if you_ don’t _introduce yourself now, it will be ten times more awkward when you both get off the train and both Stannis’ friend and I are there to pick you two up! – Now go give him the phone and I will make the introductions.”_

There was a long pause, Sansa thinking about her options and (unfortunately) found no better alternative: Renly was right, it would just be even more awkward later... might as well rip the band-aid now...

_Gods_...

A small whimper escaped her as she heard Renly call out her name from the phone – clearly losing patience - before moving as slowly as possible, with all the enthusiasm of a death-row inmate approaching the chair, back to her seat... and her table partner... Mr Disapproval – aka, Renly’s _brother_ ( _Gods How did I miss that_?!!)

 

A final pause, with an accompanying pep-talk: _Ok – need to be strong - you are a Stark for the Old Gods Sake_!

And then... with another smile (though apparently now she knew why he didn’t care for them):

“Excuse me?”

He was looked up from the newspaper to meet Sansa’s gaze with a slight frown (his eternal scowl, according to Renly): “Yes?”

Sansa felt her courage falter slightly under the piercing gaze, before she felt her throat tighten: “Umm...”-

\- And then, in a moment of pure panic, she just lifted the phone directly at his face, and blurted: “Renly would like to speak to you.”– _Gods I just sounded like a five year telling her teacher than her parent would like to speak with them..._

 

Her teeth bit her bottom lip from all the nervousness, as she raised the phone even more in his face, all the while looking as both his eyebrows lifted (– obviously, definitely not expecting Sansa’s crazy outburst –) before the frown came back stronger as he slowly raised his hand and took the device from her (- Sansa definitely feeling a thrill when their fingers briefly touched-) and finally spoke:

_“Hello? “_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =
> 
> The Chanel Shade, the Make-Up, the Suit...


	6. On the Matter of a Fairy and Tom Cruise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between Kings Landing and Storm's End - Train Journey Final Part

 

‘ _If something is going wrong, it is bound to only get a whole lot worse_ ’.

 

Stannis _hated_ being right; but he hadn’t ever hated it more than he did right in this moment, two wide blue eyes clearly trying (but failing) to gage his thoughts to the ‘news’ without looking too nervous about it.

 

When she – _‘Sansa’ apparently_ \- had come back from her phone call, Stannis had noticed the pallor of her cheeks along with the slight edge of her walk back to her seat. Stannis remembered even musing that if he hadn't known any better he would have thought she had seen one of those ‘fire shadows’ from the Red God Selyse would go on about...

But Stannis had refused to feel any sort of concern, thinking her problems were exactly that: _her own_ and that he - a complete stranger to her - would not let himself be sucked into her drama with her potentially many admirers...

Ohhh, how naive and unsuspecting he had been. – If any of the Gods truly existed they were definitely laughing at him right now...

... Because of course it had been right then and there that Stannis had been internally chastising all those weaker men that had fallen under this siren‘s charms and her ‘ _innocent_ ’, ‘ _be-my-knight-in-shining-armour’_ look that she had down to an art, that the young lady had trust her phone right in his face before saying those damning words... _his_ brother’s name...

But, even then, when Stannis had first taken the phone from the young lady’s hand, he hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect; – even with the introductory sentence ‘ _Renly would like to speak to you’_ , his mind had just not accepted or computed what exactly that meant, almost believing (- _hoping_ -) that this was some kind of jest done in poor taste.

 

Unfortunately it wasn’t. – No, it was the opposite of a jest of any kind, funny or not at all.

From the moment Stannis put the phone to his ear and heard the over-joyful, over-dramatic voice that was Renly’s (– _yes, his Renly’s!_ -) had exclaimed ‘ _Stannis_!’ as if he was Azor Ahai delivering endless joy and answers to all his brother’s prayers, to then go charging forward into a conversation-monologue (-more an _ode_ , than anything else, really -) talking non-stop about ‘ _Sansa’_... about the young woman, who, it soon became _very_ clear, was more than just some casual acquaintance... about the woman that was his brother’s ‘ _sun, his moon, his stars, the reason he got up in the morning, the reason he couldn’t sleep at night, the reason he lived, breathed’_... about the companion that was joining him for the next three days for Robert’s Namesday... about the ‘ _love of his life’_ , that Stannis needed to make sure she was properly taken care of until Renly reached her...

... Or more to the point: about the young lady who Stannis had spent the last nine hours with... who had received calls and messages from men not called ‘ _Renly’_ , during said journey... who was using a card with neither ‘ _Sansa’_ or even ‘ _Renly’_ as the first name written on it... who was wearing a man’s old Royal Navy Greatcoat, when Stannis knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that his younger brother had never been in the Navy, or any of the Armed Forces for that matter... who had waved and smiled to a group of young men through the window... who had worn barely-there-clothes for a good portion of the train ride... who had even briefly tried to flirt with Stannis over a piece of lamb... who even now was sat facing Stannis, looking more apprehensive by the minute...

 

His own mind buzzing going over the whole conversation as well as the train journey, two things became very clear to Stannis: Renly was clearly head over heels, as well as clearly in over his head with this temptress.

 

=

 

The tension having only mounted since Sansa had given ‘ _Stannis’_ the phone and then when he had finally returned it after his talk with Renly, she couldn’t help but fidget in her seat as, bite her lip, as she wondered who should speak first and bring up the (-rather huge-) elephant in the room, so to speak.

From his deepening scowl it didn’t seem like Mr Disapproval was going to do the honours, or was at all pleased by the Sansa being his younger brother’s date for the party, or whatever else Renly had told him on the phone.

Not being able to take the silence that had surrounded them for the last five minutes, a slightly high-pitched laugh escaped her lips – one that usually came out when she was panicky... _very panicky_ : “Strange, isn’t it? Who would have thought that we were going to the same place?” Unfortunately as the silence continued to rattle her nerves meant Sansa continued to blabber on: “– Such a small world... facing each other for several hours, only to find out your Renly’s girlfriend- I mean _I’m_ Renly’s girlfriend...”

At the mention of ‘ _Renly_ ’ and ‘ _girlfriend’_ Sansa could have sworn she saw his eyes darken slightly (or maybe it was the fact that she had accidentally called him Renly’s girlfriend). In any case, thankfully by then, it seemed her throat had finally decided to dry up before she could say anything else.

There was a slight pause, his dark intense gaze ever continuing to bore into her (-actually making Sansa shiver, but not in fright strangely-) before ‘ _Stannis’_ finally spoke, his tone dry and hard: “Yes – isn’t it just” eyes flicking to the greatcoat hanging off the side of the chair, he then added after another pause, “... and here I thought you were going to port to join your naval squadron.”

At the comment, Sansa felt her lip twitch ever-so-slightly, whilst his face stayed inflexible even at his own joke... _surely it was a joke, right?_...

Taking a small gulp, Sansa tried to shake her unease, and forced some of her inner-wolf to the surface instead, convincing herself that all would be _finnnneee_ (-... _fine my ass_ ).

\- At least he _had_ talked to her; some sort of dialogue had started... He was just a man, flesh and blood. Moreover, Renly didn’t seem to complain about ‘ _Stannis_ ’ as much as the ‘ _Lannisters’_ or even his other brother, _Robert_ , so surely that meant he couldn’t be all bad? – The fact that she was supposed to be Renly’s girlfriend surely also meant that she _should_ make some kind of effort to get on with his family, ‘Stannis’ included, especially if he was Renly’s brother... and more than ever if she was going to go through a whole three days in his company.

With a tentative smile, she finally found her voice once: “So, you’re Stannis, Renly’s other brother?”

Eyes still on her, his eyebrow rose questionably, challenging her, his voice now having a sinister softness to it: “The ‘ _other brother’_... is that how I am described now?”

Sansa could feel her cheeks redden as she quickly tried to recover from the remark: “I meant, since the weekend is for your older brother Robert’s namesday, I was just pointing to the fact that it wasn’t your namesday we were celebrating.”

There was a slight pause, before with a brief sigh and a stiff nod he finally confirmed: “Yes, I am Stannis, the _other_ brother.”

Encouraged, she offered another small smile as she said: “I’m Sansa, Sansa Stark, the _only_ girlfriend... _hopefully_.”

_\- Gods – why do you try t make jokes when you are nervous Sansa! Stop!_

Sansa could have sworn there was a flicker of something in his eye as well as his brow slightly twitched, before it disappeared and he drawled: “Renly said. - How exactly did my brother and you meet?”

Sansa's jaw very briefly tensed _\- Ok Sansa...ignore the fact that he should know more about his brother’s life if he actually had the slightest interest in Renly and focus on the fact that he_ has _started a dialogue: dialogue is_ good _(telling him off about not knowing about something as basic as Renly’s best-friend... check that, girlfriend, is_ not _). – And don’t make anymore stupid jokes Sansa_!

Keeping her voice as pleasant as possible (removing all wobble): “We met in the Eyrie, about four years ago, during one of my performances... production of Sleeping Beauty, I was the Lilac Fairy. After the performance, Renly came back stage to compliment me on my skill - my footing -, telling me that the Fairy‘s dance with Prince Desire in the Second Act was always one of his mother’s favourite.”

“You’re a _dancer_?”

There was a slight edge to the word _dancer_ ; somewhat incredulous, somewhat scornful, in the way that others might use when saying ‘ _lap dancer’_.

With a small bite, she retorted: “Yes, a _ballet dancer,_ with the Mountains of the Moon Company.”

Though, all too soon she chastised herself, frustrated that he had made her tempter rise; – _remember_ : ‘ _courtesy is a lady’s armour’_... _you need to play nice for them to like you_...

Calming down, Sansa forced herself to instead focus on ‘Stannis’ and what Renly had told her about his middle brother: _yes, he is a much safer topic to talk about than me and my 'relationship' to Renly._

 _So..., what exactly_ has _Renly said about him..._?

 

=

 

Stannis was in a premature hell to the one coming later; instead of this ‘Sansa’ letting him grumble in his own thoughts about this most recent ‘news’ as well as his impending boom, the young lady seemed to think that now that they had Renly in common, they could actually converse and make ‘ _small-talk_ ’.

A great part of him was now concentrated on not grinding his teeth every time she mentioned ‘ _Renly’_ and ‘ _girlfriend’_ next to each other, in addition to a few other disturbances: - At the mention of the last name ‘ _Stark’_ , he had definitely felt a jolt of recognition, the back of his mind prickling, trying to figure out _why_ the name was familiar to him. Unfortunately, all too soon, most of his brain became focused on not picturing her (-his _brother’s_ _girlfriend_... -) in a scantily clad outfit, dancing around a not-at-all-hygienic pole or even in an outfit similar to her previous one with an added tutu doing a succession of pliers, pirouettes and leaps (- which incidentally was still very much alluring, or even more so, in Stannis’ perverse mind).

However, Stannis had also felt a brief tinge of sadness at the mention of his mother, remembering how Renly and him and even sometimes their father went with her to see ballets either at Storm’s End or at the Royal Opera House in Kings Landing, whilst Robert was already in boarding school, or later, in University. But, even then, the nostalgia had turned to resentment when Stannis couldn’t help but wonder if this ‘Sansa’ had used the memory of their mother to ensnare his sentimental, over-romantic younger brother.

 

His rising irritation was, however, regrettably once more interrupted by the young lady, seemingly persistent in this chit-chat, ‘ _get-to-know-each-other_ ’ nonsense; - giving him another small (rather nervous) smile:

“So... Renly said something about you being in the army ... ( _a nervous chuckle_ ) but not really in the army? How can one be in the army but not in the army?”

At the question, Stannis felt his jaw tighten: “I _am_ in the army. What I think my brother was trying to convey was that I am an Army Legal Officer.”

Alas, he was only met with a blank stare at the answer.

With a small huff, he reluctantly explained (- at the very least, she could actually learn something):

“Essentially I am a barrister: I give operational advice, prosecute at Court Martial, offer legal assistance to soldiers or advise on administrative and disciplinary matters-”

To his horror, this was when with a small flicker of understanding, she actually _dared_ interrupt him: “-Oh! Wait! Are you like that actor in... Wait, wait , _wait,_ I’m going to find it...”

His indignation quickly turned to dread: - _Oh Gods... no, not again..._

“I’m going to remember.”

 _\- Please don’t_.

Unfortunately the young lady was ignorant of his internal turmoil and pleases, as she continued to gnaw her bottom lip in frustration: “... Aarghh, it’s on the tip of my tongue... _YES_! I remember: **_A Few Good Men_**! You’re just like Tom Cruise in **_A Few Good Men_** : an army lawyer!”

 _Gods_ , _why_?... – there was no point in trying to keep his teeth from clenching and grinding now: Stannis had had more than enough of everyone comparing him to bloody Tom Cruise in that grossly inaccurate film:

“ _Actually_ – Tom Cruise in the particular film you mention was a _Lieutenant_ in the _United States Navy_ and ... the equivalent here, in _Westeros_ , would be a _Lieutenant_ in the _Royal Navy_.

I am in the _Westerosi Army_ – the equivalent for _Lieutenant_ in the Royal _Navy_ would be a _Captain_ in the Army... I am not a _Captain_ ; I am a Westerosi Army _Colonel_ – three ranks above _Captain_... Though – _ironically_ – the equivalent of _Colonel_ in the Royal Navy (and the US Navy) is _Captain_.

As for his legal qualifications: the character ‘ _Lieutenant Daniel Kaffee_ ’ that Mr Cruise portrayed is described as a US Navy _lawyer_. The term ‘lawyer’ in the United States simply means one who is trained in the law - thus, anyone who has attended law school in the United States can consider themselves a lawyer. Mr Cruise’s character, being also part of the US Navy was part of the _Judge Advocate General’s Corps, of the US Navy_ – known as ‘ _JAG’_ if you prefer... I am not entirely sure what were his exact qualifications in the US Legal System - as the film left quite a fair number of blanks about this (- but he most likely wasn’t a great one-)... but I am a _barrister_... not just a ‘ _lawyer_ ’. – Barristers work at higher levels of court. We distinguish ourselves from solicitors in the fact that they have more direct access to clients, and may do transactional-type legal work. We are rarely hired by clients directly, and it is mainly barristers who are appointed as judges.

Moreover, here – in _Westeros_ \- ‘ _Lieutenant Daniel Kaffee_ ’ would have been part of the Military Courts of Westeros, since 2006 – which includes _all_ _three_ armed services – not _just_ the Royal Navy – but also the Army and the Royal Air Force... There was for a long time the _Judge Advocate of the Fleet for the Westerosi Royal Navy_ which could have been considered the equivalent to the _JAG_ in the US but it was abolished in 2006 with the Armed Forces Act, which governs the Military Courts.”

His explanation finished, Stannis found the young lady slightly gapping at him like a fish, eyebrows also slightly raised, before she blinked a few times, and finally clearing her voice with a dry cough:

“... _hum..._ rigghhht... so you are _not_ Tom Cruise, got it. –Sorry, for the inaccuracy... confusing you with him.”

Stannis wanted to snap back: ‘ _and see that you don't '_ , but instead thought it best to just give his customary nod.

 

Eyeing him ever-cautiously, it seemed that the young lady was not done, though; but was clearly also worried that she might make another erroneous comment. Although, dreading what she might ask him next (and wanting this conversation to end) Stannis could not help but prompt her; – as he loathed people who did not speak their mind more than people who said their peace or said something wrong:

“Yes?”

“I was just wondering: I remember Renly mentioning you were stationed in Dragonstone?”

Curt nod: “That is correct.”

A small amount of relief appeared, her shoulders sinking slightly, as well the lip-biting unfortunately: “So, how come you are on this train; I mean how come you were already on the train when I got on at Winterfell, in the _North_.”

His tone dry at her incessant curiosity, Stannis still answered:

“I have been the past year at Castle Black, looking over a matter between Westeros and the Land-Beyond, there has been some tension between some westerosi and free-folk. – As I am fluent in several languages, and not new to diplomatic matters (-as well as used to harsh climates-) I was recruited as a Legal as well as a Language Specialist as a liaison between the soldiers and the local civilians from the Land-Beyond.”

Her lips made an interesting ‘O’ shape before ‘Sansa’s long lashes flickered, clearly recalling something: “You’ve been at Castle Black the past year?”

However, before he could confirm that _yes_ , that’s what he had _literally_ _just_ stated, she added: “Do you know Jon Snow?”

At the mention of Major Snow**, an image of the young man appeared at the front of Stannis’ mind (- as well as remembering that the officer seemed to have a penchant for red-heads -), Stannis’ brows creased once more, wondering _how_ exactly the young lady knew Major Snow.

 

Before Stannis could question her about her own affiliation to the young officer, however, they felt a small but significant jolt from the train, before he heard her exclaim: “Oh! we’ve arrived!”, just as he also looked out the window and saw not only that they were indeed moving into Storm’s End Station, but could also see two figures wearing light-winter jackets in the distance: one with a greying full beard – _Davos_ \- and the other, taller, was the undoubtedly over-joyous face of Renly, ready to see his ‘ _girlfriend_ ’ (even-more-so than his own brother).

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =
> 
> [ ](http://s284.photobucket.com/user/shortsandramblings/media/Chapter%206_zpsfwhsjzw6.jpg.html)
> 
> =
> 
> =
> 
> * - Although I am more picturing/ considering that Westeros is more or less the equivalent of Western Europe (or at least UK + France + Spain put together) in terms of climate/size/different ‘Great Houses’... I am considering that its government and its Armed Forces are the closest to the United Kingdom’s. -> Stannis’ ranking as well as his job are based on what I researched on the UK Armed Forces.
> 
> That being said: I have little knowledge of either the UK Military or the US Military and even less so about the Law/lawyers/barristers... most of my knowledge is based on internet research, so if I made nay (huge or not) inaccuracies I apologise in advance.
> 
> ** - Major: in UK and US Army = two ranks under Colonel (Jon: two ranks under Stannis)


	7. Greetings and Arrivals

 

Dragging her suitcase behind her, her favourite little black ankle boots moved down the platform at a swift pace towards Renly.

One could think that Sansa couldn’t wait to greet her boyfriend meeting her on the platform.

That was partially true. Renly _was_ there to greet her. Sansa _was_ impatient to get to him (-though he was _not_ her boyfriend.)

Of course the other truth – the one Sansa hoped was not showing on her face - was knowing _he_ was _there_ , following behind her. It wasn’t just that _he_ was Renly’s brother, or that moments ago _he_ had helped her retrieve her bag from the over-head space before they had bother descended from the train, or that she could hear the sound of his feet crunching on the gritted paving stones, that had Sansa more than aware of _his_ presence lingering behind her own. _Nope_ \- it was the hard eyes on her, his heavy stare creating a sharp prickling sensation in her neck and back with each step she took to get some distance between them.

 

“Sansa!”

Trying to focus on the Baratheon man facing her, Sansa couldn’t help but grin back as a more sombre/stated version of Renly than the one she was used to, strolled towards her, arm stretched out, smile and arms wide open.

Never had she been ever more relieved to see him. So much so that Sansa willingly – _and quite literally_ \- fell into his arms. Her – _very gay_ – best friend then proceeded to swoop her into his arms, and, with a rather flourish movement, brought her chest against his, whilst one hand grabbed her hip - possibly to stabilise her from this rather unusual greeting - and the other went to the back of her neck, his fingers looping in her long strands of hair. All of this was quickly followed by Renly placing his mouth right into the corner of her lips, whilst bringing her whole body into a small dip.

So relieved by his presence – as well as still very much perturbed by the two eyes digging a hole in the back of her brain – Sansa had momentarily forgotten the exact reason why she had come to Storm's End in the first place and was very much caught off guard by Renly’s bizarre manner of greeting.

Thankfully, she caught on just in time and let the whole thing fly before she was actually able to push Renly off of her and ask him what exactly he was about?

Letting go of her bag’s handle, she move further into his form. Of course this only encouraged him to ‘deepen’ the kiss, to an even more intimate one. Before she knew it, Sansa was arching her body into Renly’s, sliding her fingers into his hair...

To a bystander she could only assume the kiss was becoming more in the lines of a ‘ _couple-who-cant-stand-being-away-from-each-other-more-than-five-minutes_ ’ one...

... The small cough that she heard a few moments later only confirmed this thought.

Feeling ever the more self aware of their surroundings and _who_ exactly was also on the platform, Sansa felt the heat rise to her cheeks, encouraging her to give Renly a small tug in the back of the nape to put an end to their little ‘show’.

When Renly finally pulled back and righted her next to him, Sansa could see the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. Pushing a strand of her hair out of her face, he leaned in as if to give another – much more tame - small peck in her hair, but instead whispered very low in her ear, “ _Thank the Seven you are here San; think I can actually enjoy this weekend a bit now._ ”

Sansa could help but whisper back, “ _You didn’t have to go for the R-rated show just yet Ren... could have started with a PG rating in front of your brother, no?_ ”

Another peck, and he replied, “ _Please - anything to give a jolt of life into Stan is worth it_...”, before stepping ever so slightly away from her – though their bodies still very much touching and in line with each other - and turned to the large presence behind her.

“Stannis! Welcome back to the South big brother!”

The ghost of a smile – looking quite painful and out of place – formed on _Colonel_ Baratheon’s face for the briefest moment, “Renly. I see you are well.”

“Gods Stannis – try not to frighten _all_ the guests with your scowl. This weekend is supposed to be a celebration! – Or did you decide to bring the Northern coldness down with you, as a present, for Robert’s nameday?”

Thankfully – possibly having also noticed the small twitch in his older brother’s jaw – Renly did not wait for a reply, but instead, smile still firmly in place, turned to the other older breaded man, “Seaworth, let me present to you Miss Sansa Stark. Sansa – _my love_ – this is Davos Seaworth, a friend of Stannis’.”

With a slight tilt of the head, Mr Seaworth smiled at her, “Miss Stark, welcome to Storm’s End.”

Relieved by the much welcoming greeting – as well as not having to look at Mr Disproval anymore - Sansa readily smiled back, “Thank you Mr Seaworth.”

“Have you been to Storm's End before?”

“No, never... I honestly rather excited to see where Renly grew up; he’s told me quite a lot about the Baratheon castle...”

 

**=**

 

_I bet he has_...

Stannis tried not to roll his eyes, biting back a remark. Those words were most possibly to be the first genuine ones spoken from the young lady about Renly...

Thankfully, they started to move to the car before he had to listen to anymore of the farcical tale the young lady was stringing his brother – and now Davos - through.

Unfortunately, as Stannis followed behind whilst Davos continued to speak with Renly and his lady-love, his concern for his younger, romantic and naive brother only continued to grow.

Renly was clearly very much attached to this ‘ _Sansa_ ’ to invite her to Storm's End Castle, to not only meet his family but for all the fanfare that was going to be Robert’s Fiftieth Nameday Celebration. Yes, he must _really_ care for her especially given the fact that before now, Renly had never brought _anyone_ for his brothers to meet.

That was not even mentioning the look on his brother’s face – as well as the rather overly- _animated_ greeting - when reaching ‘ _Sansa’_.

Stannis had seen Renly smile before, of course, many times. In fact, Renly was one of those people Stannis would classify as a ‘ _smiler’_ – a person ready and willing to give anyone and everyone a smile, whether it be one with genuine emotion or not.

However, in this particular case, not only was the smile he gave the temptress in his arms more than genuine – _radiating really_ – but even the smile Renly seemed to have given Stannis was one more welcoming – _warmer_ – than Stannis had ever received from either of his brothers. As joyful as Renly usually was, Stannis didn’t remember him being this elated when it came to their family – _no, definitely more restrained_.

Of course, this unfortunately could only mean one thing: his brother was truly and utterly doomed. Stannis couldn’t be more worried about what would actually happen when his younger, innocent brother realised the woman who was bringing him this joy and happiness was actually only an illusion, and that young lady’s attraction for his brother was not Renly himself but _what_ came _with_ dating a Baratheon.

At least, it was with some relief that Stannis bore in mind that Davos would be here during the whole of the weekend. Hopefully his friend would be ready not only to help him survive Robert and his wife’s family, but to also give Stannis his assistance in managing/dealing with this newest familial problem.

 

**=**

 

A certain sense of relief washed over Sansa as she sunk into the plush leather seat in the back of the car. Whilst Storm's End was not nearly as cold as Winterfell, winter was _here_ , and Sansa was only wearing a knee length, backless dress, under her father’s Great Navy coat.

Not to mention, in addition to being protected from the seasonal winds, there was also that relief that she no longer had _his_ looming presence breathing in the back of her neck.

_Although_...

Despite the fact that the car _was_ decidedly warmer than outside and quite comfortable, no matter how much temperature or physical support the vehicle brought Sansa couldn’t help but feel a slight chill still very much present inside, a slight tension that seemed to refuse to go away.

Sinking in from his side, Renly seemed to have sensed it as well. Or at least sensed _her_ discomfort, as he leaned into her, across the backseat couch, and whispered in her ear – most likely to make sure only she heard,

“You ok?”

Not wanting to delve into the whole reason for her current distress (– _no_ , she would explain the entire awkward train ride with his brother when no one was around –) Sansa said the first thing that came to mind,

“Yes... yes, yes... I-I had just asked your brother, just before we reached the station, about his job and he was rather enlightening about being a barrister as well as a Colonel in the Westerosi Army. My mind was just still trying to go through all the things he said...”

Renly groaned,

“ _Gods_... did he happen to mention ‘ ** _A Few Good Men_** _’_?

“Y-yes...”

His voice louder, Renly spoke more to the front of the car than to her,

“ _By the Seven_ Stannis, do you have that speech memorised?... How could you not realise that most men would not take offence in being compared to Tom Cruise in ‘ ** _A Few Good Men’_**. Not to mention, would use it as a plus as well as the huge advantage of having an officer’s uniform into chatting people up.”

Not able to see his face, Sansa only caught the distinctive huff from the seat in front of her (– as well as the slight hint of amusement on Mr Seaworth’s face in reflection of the rear-view mirror.

His voice low once more, Renly added to Sansa,

“You know the only reason he actually watched that film was because of receiving several remarks about being like Tom Cruise. – He didn’t even know who Tom Cruise was before then!”

Feeling slightly discomforted, Sansa slightly regretted mentioning the incident to Renly. As such she couldn’t help but state loud enough for the whole car to hear,

“To be totally honest, I totally understand your brother’s correcting me, Renly, making a point about _not_ being Tom Cruise... – All those times I introduce myself to new people and say I was a ballerina, so many people just jump to that one scene between Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis, in the film ‘ ** _Black Swan_** _’_ , and end up asking me if I - if not _all_ female ballerinas - have hot make-out sessions with their understudy or with any of the other women in their Company. – It’s actually gotten worse since I’m actually the _prima_ in **_Swan Lake_**.”

 

=

 

Pushing away the rather vivid image Miss Stark had just placed in his head - of her and another ballet dancer in a heated embrace - Stannis felt his jaw twitch in irritation: he did _not_ need Renly’s dubious _lady-love_ defending his actions or words.

Unfortunately, his frustration only worsened when Stannis then noticed in the reflection in the car rear-view mirror as his brother lean into the tempress and whispered something in her ear - most likely sweet nothings about their own ‘ _hot make-out sessions’_ whilst she was in her ballerina outfits...

 

The couple only continued their soft whispers as the car moved through the streets of Storm's End.

As for in front, thankfully, whether he had noticed Stannis’ mood or not, Davos did not show it, but instead did most of the talking, informing Stannis that Marya and the his sons had already retired to the North Wing of the estate (- Stannis knew he didn’t have to mention to his friend that Cersei had placed them in the area that had once been old servants quarters)... On the other hand, apparently, Shireen was still up as well as were her all her cousins, even the youngest... Jon Arryn would be arriving tomorrow... Apparently Tyrion Lannister would also be staying in the North Wing, on the far side of the castle; thinking it best for both his shrew of a sister and for himself... As for Cersei's twin had changed his plans last minute and would arrive the following day... Even more thankfully, Tywin Lannister would only be arriving the day of the main celebrations... -

\-- Of course, whatever Davos spoke of next was lost on Stannis, when they finally neared the outer walls of the Baratheon property. It wasn’t only the feeling running through him at finally seeing the several-centuries old castle, after a rather long absence from his family home, that had Stannis captivated, but rather the soft breathless voice Stannis heard from behind his seat,

“ _By the Old Gods_...”

In response, he heard his brother softly chuckle, “ _Impressive isn’t it?”_

“ _It’s...it’s magnificent...”_

The awe quality in the young woman’s voice had not died down, if anything had only increased... Which regrettably had Stannis _reacting_ in a rather Robert-like-manner, forcing him to shift slightly in his seat, all the while trying _not_ to imagine that same voice in a totally different context, with the young lady not talking about a castle...

Trying to ignore his treacherous body, Stannis’ heard his brother give out another small chuckle, “ _I did tell you that all about the Baratheons is big, strong, and resilient_.”

It was as if a large bucket of iced water from the Land-Beyond had been poured on him, as Stannis suddenly had the image of himself being replaced by his brother, whilst in the throes of passion with a certain young lady, her red hair spread across a pillow, her head pulled back moaning ‘ _Renly_ ’, as said brother continued to pound his ‘ _big_ _Baratheon strength’_ into her.

 

=

 

Barely aware of Renly’s voice, Sansa’s attention was fully on the large structure standing out from the darkness. _Storm's End Castle_.

It was like a fairytale castle from one of her childhood stories or the ballets she performed in. She had seen a few pictures of the fortress before, obviously. Renly had shown her a few as well as seeing a few in History, Home, or Fashion magazines. Nevertheless, they had all been lacking in portraying the castle’s utter magnificence and strength... the scale of the place, or the impact it made on the surrounding landscape. Even in the darkness, just before they passed under the large wooden portcullis, Sansa could make out the edge of the cliff that it stood on top of, its stone walls seeming to rise directly out of them.

Even Winterfell Castle – who had been built more or less at the same time, if she remembered correctly – was not this well preserved/kept together. Not much of the Northern Castle was actually habitable, most only open to tourists - especially now that her parents had moved and retired to Essos. On the other hand, for this one, it was clear that Renly hadn’t been exaggerating in saying that it would be able to accommodate all of those who would be needing accommodation for the party (- regardless of his shrew of a sister-in-laws reluctant attitude and disparaging comments).

 

Unfortunately, she was so captivated by the structure in front of her that Sansa had not noticed the car stop or the doors open until she felt Renly nudge her in the ribs.

“Come on _princess_ – let me properly show you my family’s castle.”

Thankfully the cool breeze hitting her legs was also a good prompt and jolted Sansa to close her slightly gaping mouth, and quickly getting out of the vehicle.

 

Now having actually ultimately arrived at the Storm's End castle, Sansa felt her hand grip Renly’s larger one more tightly, as they followed behind Mr Seaworth and Col Baratheon, taking the several steps to the arched double front doors. The weekend looming ahead was now becoming much more a reality.

Not to mention, once inside, as if to further support Renly’s warnings that this would be a weekend rivalling Dante’s Inferno, Sansa noticed the many Dragon Age swords, hammers and breastplates hanging high on the walls in the foyer... as well as the deafening sound of the large ironwood doors closing behind them, as if locking them in.

With a small, nervous chuckle, she leaned into Renly,

“Very... _shinny_ , your brother’s collection. Personally, I would have gone a different decor: putting all the heads of the different animals killed in the last hunt on the walls - much more _macho_.”

However, before Renly could reply, a heavier, rougher voice responded hauntingly, “They are from the Dragon Age, Fifth Century I believe. Their purpose was to keep the castle safe from enemies, rather than be ‘ _shinny decor’_.”

Meeting dark stormy blue eyes, Sansa’s throat wobbled, “ _Enemies_?”

His eyes still boring down into her own, there was a slight twitch of his jaw as Colonel Baratheon supplied, “The Baratheons have fought and protected themselves from _many different_ opponents through the centuries, using _many different_ tools to help in their endeavour.”

There was the slightest pause, their eyes still locked on each other – Sansa’s heart beating just a little faster, wondering if there was a hidden message specifically for her in the tall, dark, brooding man’s words. And then, it was suddenly broken by Renly letting out a burst of laughter next to Sansa,

“Yea... but unfortunately for us, Robert wasn’t successful at keeping a certain she-devil from coming inside.”

Giving Sansa’s hand a slight tug, he then gave Sansa a small sigh of defeat,

“Speaking of which, best get it over with, and present you to Robert and his _lovely_ wife...”

 

=

 

Eyes following as Renly lead his _girlfriend_ the long entrance corridor, Stannis barely caught Davos’ remark next to him.

“She seems like a lovely girl.”

His jaw twitched. – _Great, another one falls under her many charms_. – Gaze breaking from the retreating forms, Stannis let out a huff, ready to correct his friend before it was too late,

“ _’Lovely’_ indeed; I’m sure all her other many admirers would agree with you.”

At the statement, Davos looked back at Stannis, eyebrows raised in mild confusion,

“Oh?...”

“Let’s just say, I would not hold Miss Stark in such high regards just yet.”

Ever curious, Davos pressed,

“Did something happen on the train?”

_Oh, let me see: wearing barely any clothes, accepting phone calls from persistent (winy) men, using credit cards from other men, waving at more men on the platform, being on first name terms with the rather attractive Major Snow, trying to flirt with her table partner over lunch and crossword puzzles..._ -

\-- At the thought of their own moments together doing said crossword puzzle, his spine abruptly straightened further.

Stiffly, jaw tightening slightly, Stannis replied,

“Let’s just say that having spent several hours on the train with the young lady, I do not believe Miss Sansa Stark holds the same amount of regard and affection for my brother as he does her.”

At his friend’s raised eyebrows, Stannis supplied further,

“Quite by chance, Miss Stark was sat opposite myself in the First Class carriage. Even before learning _who_ the lady was, through the journey, I found her character rather _questionable_. Needless to say, when, just after our phone call at King's Landing, it was revealed that _this_ was the young lady Renly had invited to Robert’s Nameday Celebration, I became greatly concerned. Which incidentally, I am now requesting for your assistance in saving Renly from himself – and from _her_.”

 

 

=

 

 

=

 

 


	8. Dante's Hell

 

 

A loud booming voice was indication enough that Renly was leading Sansa in the right direction and that soon enough they would be reaching their destination, through the maze that seemed to be Storm's End Castle.

Although a rather long and mind-winding walk through the corridors – Dragon Age armour and paintings of old stooges staring down at them – Sansa welcomed these few moments of peace before the next stage of this farce.

For one, she was more than relieved no longer feeling the hard stare glaring down on her back, making her body strangely tingling and hot. In fact, she was so relieved that she didn’t pause to wonder _why_ neither Mr Seaworth nor Colonel Baratheon had followed behind Renly and herself. - Instead, no longer under any sort of scrutiny, she was listened as Renly continued to update her on the few things he had forgotten to mention on their phone conversation. (- _Oh,_ y _ou know:_ _when he sidetracked me by the fact that my seat partner was none other than his overly-serious, overly-stiff, older brother_.)

Apparently _Robert_ was on the way of becoming rather drunk – because he was ‘ _Robert’_. Robert’s wife, _Cersei_ , was also drinking quite a fair amount - since she was pissed off with the world, and, at this given moment in time, mainly with her husband, her youngest brother, and giving major stink-eye to her precious son’s girlfriend, Loras’ sister. Incidentally, Tyrion Lannister was also actually getting drinking as well – possibly in competition with his brother-in-law, Ren wasn’t sure – as well as making the occasional crude comment – only to rile his sister further. _Joffrey_ was being a right prick – as per usual. As for Loras’ social-climbing sister, she was being ‘ _charming’_ with an edge of steal, reminding Renly a little too much of her grandmother...

And thus, _poor_ _Renly_ ; - with all the dramatic flair Sansa knew her friend possessed – he quickly explained how he had gone from going between being tortured for being in his family’s presence for so long to being bored out of his mind because the only few ‘ _normal’_ people were either the population aged ten and under, or his other brother’s only friend, Mr Seaworth, and his family, who unfortunately, being rather old and of a different generation and social standing, didn’t have much in common with Renly and thus seemed rather boring – ‘ _nice but boring_ ’...

“ _[...]..._ then again, old Seaworth is an ex-convict that Stannis had helped out in the past... can you believe that? – Though, _really_ , that is _such_ a Stannis thing to do: he would rather become friends with a criminal than with the people he actually knows. – _Ha, ha_! Such a ‘ _social butterfly’_ my brother.”

 

However, Renly didn’t continue further into the subject of Mr Seaworth or his relationship with Renly’s older brother. From the booming voice, now louder than ever coming through the slight ajar opening, as well as the momentum of their walk slowed down by Renly’s pace, Sansa could only assume they had finally reached the correct set of large double doors (- out of the hundreds they had already passed).

Reaching for the handle, Renly paused and looked back at Sansa. His face sobering, he whispered in genuine concern, as well as a possible edge of tension in his voice.

“You ready?”

At the question, Sansa felt her throat hitch, only able to give a small nod, as a bust of stage-fright kicked in. A small smile in response, clearly seeing her last minute apprehension, he squeezed her fingers that were laced within his.

“You will be fine, just remember what you told me.”

Sansa blinked, having no idea what he was referring to, her brain in shambles. Some humour came back on Renly’s face as he supplied,

“You have survived four brothers and your sister _Arya_ , you have endured the ‘ _Drowned God’s Gift to Women’_ Theon Greyjoy, _and_ the letch, Monsieur Baelish, you were both Homecoming and Prom Queen in High School, and have been the Prima in a Ballet Company for over a year, which is basically ‘ _Bitch-Back-Stabbing Central_ ’... – And now its _show-time_ my prima-princess.”

And with that, he slowly pushed one of the doors inward, before tugging – rather forcefully - Sansa to follow him inside the space.

 

There was a pause – a long breath, her eyes momentarily closing – and then, Sansa was in... inside a gorgeous, very warm, library.

One hand still clutching Renly’s and the other gripping her bag, she took a swoop of the room, before her gaze landed of the occupants of the space.

With another slightly long breath, she eyes slowly took in each person. Truthfully, if Renly hadn’t already pre-warned Sansa - several times, with great emphasis and theatrics – about his family, at first glance, she would have thought the scene presented in front of her was that of a definitely well-off but warm-loving family.

Of course, the truth of the matter was that Renly _had_ warned her. Not to mention the fact that Sansa had already been acquainted with the higher echelons of society in the North, the Riverlands and in the Vale (- _thank you mom -_ ), as well as trained to see the reality behind the ‘glamour’ and theatrics of a staged set (- _thank you ballet_ ).

Looking with a more critical eye, there was definitely a looming ambience of _Dante’s Inferno_ –

Her eyes automatically went to where the sound was the loudest: – a large bulging man, with a great big bushy beard. From Renly’s many stories and warnings, this could only be his oldest brother – Robert Baratheon. _Third Circle -_ _Gluttony_. He was rather red in the face – a few blotches visible on his cheeks and temple – not to mention the few visible drops of red that had landed on his grip when the drink had last sloshed from the glass being moved rather precariously. And, even from this distance, Sansa could swear that there were several rather large crumbs that had integrated themselves in his jacket and shirt, over the protruding stomach. - Looking over to the armchair to his right, she could even possibly include the short man sitting, drinking and laughing next to Robert Baratheon in Dante’s Third Circle.

Her eyes then landed to on what were clearly the _Fourth_ and _Fifth Circles of Dante’s Inferno – Greed_ and _Wrath_. Aand also most likely being Renly’s sister-in-law, Cersei Lannister-Baratheon. The older woman was beautiful, there was no denying it – stunning really. Unfortunately, the rather ostentatious, over-the-top knee-length dress - blood red with too many details, tassels, and shoulder pads, all with a low-plunging, not-really-that-appropriate neck line – made heavier by the several statement pieces of gold jewellery, called to mind the image of a hording fury more than anything else. The blonde woman’s facial expression did not help either. The scowl and pursed lips - stained in a similar deep red tint to her dress... and the wine clutched in her hand - only seemed to demonstrate further her contempt and belief of superiority on all others in the room.

The _Sixth Circle – Heresy_ could possibly revert back to the two men still laughing. From their talk and consumption in the mere moments Sansa had been studying them, both men – the huge and the small - appeared more willing to venerate _wine_ and _women_ more than any of the different gods – Old or New.

Looking away as she notice more wine splash out of the smaller man’s glass, laughing at the latest lewd joke Robert Baratheon had said, Sansa’s gaze travelled to find another couple: a young man – blonde - and a young woman – brunette. The young man – most likely only a few years older than herself – was good-looking, in that rather polished-preppy look that one could see in the cinema heart-throbs in basic romantic-comedies... Though maybe just slightly _too_ feminine for Sansa; - the sort of guy _too_ metero-sexual that she would have been all over in High School but had now outgrown by hanging around just as well groomed but more muscular ballet dancers, as well as - his completely opposite - much more manly, bulky-gruff northern men. There was also a slight hint of... _something_ in his eyes, as he leered at his sofa partner, that just made Sansa think best not be left alone in a room with him... (- Or possibly, it was just the fact that Renly had just gone on _so_ much about his devil-spawn nephew, that Sansa had recognised the unsettledness and hostility straight away within the man’s stare.) _Seventh Circle – Violence_.

As for the beautiful young woman, there was a hint of ennui and placidity behind the pleasant smile and soft smoothing motion her hand did, falling the length of Joffrey Baratheon’s shoulder and arm. _Eight Circle – Fraud_. With the rather composed and serene – _fake_ \- look she was giving Renly’s nephew, Sansa could only assume that this was the fore-mentioned Margaery Tyrell; - Loras’ sister, who was not only dating the ‘devil’s spawn’, but also the younger, less ‘ _aggressive’_ and _belligerent_ version of Loras’ grandmother, Olenna Tyrell (- _according to Renly_ ).

Just as Sansa was about to remember the next and final circle, Renly seemed to have lost patience in her fixed position – or had become more edgy himself -, and pulled her further into the room. Unfortunately, with his impatient movement, it seemed like a an invisible pin had at long last dropped, and their presence was noticed: all eyes seemed to be suddenly on them – with all different levels of welcome and curiosity...

... and, naturally, in response a sudden swell of panic ran through Sansa; - one apparently strong enough and obvious enough that she felt Renly’s hand and fingers tighten once more reassuringly around her own.

 

Of course the first to react and move towards them was the louder Robert Baratheon, when his gaze went from his brother to then land and stay on Sansa. Totally obivious to the fact that he had stopped half-way through an anecdote, the large man gave out a low wolf-whistle before jumping from his large fauteuil with an agility Sansa would not have thought possible for a man of his stature.

In six large steps he was in front of them, eyes still firmly on Sansa.

“ _By the Seven_ , I must say: you look like another red-head I knew... well I did not _know_ her _per se_ ; – I never really had the _pleasure_ of her company – if you know what I mean...”

The statement was completed with a cheerful wink to Sansa. Most likely fearing what his brother would do or say next, Renly quickly rushed in, all the while bringing his arm fully around Sansa shoulder in a loving-but-very-much-protective manner.

“Sansa, this is my brother, Robert. Robert, _brother_ , this is my _girlfriend_ , Sansa Stark.”

So caught in the large man’s gaze, Sansa felt her body hitch at the word _girlfriend_.

 _Girlfriend_... _\- Oh yea, of course: the_ _Ninth Circle - Treachery... that would be Renly and I, his lovely, loving ‘girlfriend’. I guess we fit right in_ —

-“Stark?!”

The loud voice literally _boomed!_ So much so, Sansa was quite certain she had momentary deafness in her ears. Unfortunately the man persisted in his energetic exclamation,

“You wouldn’t happen to be related to Ned Stark would you? – Not to mention, you look just like his wife; the red-head I mentioned.”

Sansa blinked several times; with regards to the question, the comment, and just wondering _how_ exactly he might know her father... or her mother - who he had known, but not _‘known’_ (- _thank the Gods_!). Brain working crazily fast, catching herself in time, Sansa forced her smile to stay on her face and finally spoke.

“Good evening Mr Baratheon - it’s a pleasure to meet you. And yes, I know Ned Stark and his wife – Catelyn Stark: they are my parents.”

“ _Ha_! I thought so! Gods, she was always a looker: you look just like her. Never knew how brooding-silent Ned got so lucky with that one. _Ha-ha-ha_!”

Sansa gave a brief look at Renly, not certain what to respond. Unfortunately, it seemed that neither did Renly; – this was clearly an event that her friend had _not_ anticipated. On the other hand, Robert Baratheon seemed ready and willing to help them out in what they should do next.

“Gods Renly – that’s Ned Stark’s daughter! Where are those manners our mother forced down our throats? - Take the young lady’s coat and offer her a drink! – The Seven know I definitely need one: Ned’s daughter!... I’ll be damned! _Ha!_ ”

 

=

 

After the warning Stannis had given Davos – as well as giving a more detailed account of the newest problem his brothers had brought with them - , the two men had slowly made their way to the main library, since Stannis had been unable to find any excuses _not_ to. Frankly, the only things he wanted to do now were see his daughter, and find his bed. - He had had enough drama and excitement for one day.

Unfortunately, from the loud bellow they suddenly heard – not too different from a grenade exploding, in Stannis’ mind – he doubted he would find any peace and tranquillity anytime soon. - Moments later the belief was only confirmed further, when his eyes landed on a very much animated Robert gesticulating all over the place, just as Stannis entered the room.

Silently moving further in, Davos following, Stannis took in the room.—

\- And his jaw twitched. - _Of course_ – the first thing that _had_ to be presented right in front of his was a lot of pale, glowing, smooth skin. It seemed that Miss Stark appeared to have misplaced her coat, revealing that her dress seemed to have lost certain crucial bits – _like actual clothing material to stay decent_ – and most of her back was showing, for the whole world to see.

Not that his brother Robert, nor Tyrion Lannister, seemed to mind; both men looked _captivated_ by the young lady (- Robert even more so than usual). – _Another two fall under her temptress wiles_...

Somewhat reassuringly, his naive brother Renly _did_ seem to have noticed this at least, and had his arm surrounding the girl. (- _Though he should just cover the girl up instead of putting his arm around her possessively_!)

As for the others, Cersei seemed to be acting in her role as ‘ _gracious host’_ \- though her face was fixed in a rather uncomfortable looking smile -, and her vile son seemed to be studying Renly’s young lady as if evaluating any possible weak points... At least the Tyrell girl – for Stannis was certain he was in the presence of one of Mace Tyrell’s spawn – seemed more proficient in her facade...

 

Stannis let out a long sigh, his eyes closing briefly in dismay. These next few minutes were going to be _very long_ and _draining_ to his _patience and sanity... just like the next three days_.

Wanting to just get it over and done with, he forced himself to march forward, his heavy steps moving not to different to that of a man of being sent to the gallows.

 

Although Storm's End Castle was their family home, it was Robert’s essentially, as he was the eldest. Thus, technically Stannis should have greeted his hostess, Robert’s wife, first. (– _Not bloody likely!_ –) Blatantly ignoring Cersei Lannister, Stannis went for the lesser-evil, Robert himself (– He had come down for Robert’s nameday after all). Not that Robert had actually noticed his arrival yet, but instead seemed to be repeating different variations of some nonsense or another to no one in particular, before reverting back to facing Renly and his companion.

 

Arriving at the dreaded destination that was Robert’s side, Stannis gaze ever so briefly looked to the young couple, before he addressed his brother.

“Congratulations Robert on your fifth nameday.”

– Truthfully, it wasn’t the mere fact of turning fifty that Stannis _congratulated_ his brother on (- there was no accomplishment in that in itself -), but it _was_ rather an impressive feat that Robert _had_ survived to reach fifty, by the way he consumed about everything and anything.

Only then did Robert out of the strange trance he seemed in, his head spun round to stop abruptly on Stannis.

“ _Stan_! You’re here! - When did you get here?”

 _Stan_ **nis** _\- not Stan_!

Teeth clenching slightly, Stannis forced the irritation down.

“I just arrived.”

“Oh good.”

Surprisingly, Robert seemed to actually consider the answer further, his head turning in a rather instable manner to land on the mantel clock. A moment’s reflection and he was back staring at Stannis.

“– Well it’s about bloody time isn’t it? Weren’t you supposed to arrive at noon?”

Over everything else, Stannis was actually surprised Robert had remembered. Nevertheless, Stannis made sure to keep his face as passive as possible as he explained, “The airport was closed, due to snow-storms.”

Robert blinked, “Snow–storms?”, before actually looking out the window, - “ _What_ snow storms?”

Stannis resisted the urge to roll his eyes – it was like explaining basic geography to a six year old. How was it that his _dear_ brother was _still_ the head of Baratheon Industries?

“ _Castle Black_ Airport, in the _North_ , was closed due to snow storms.”

Thankfully, with the explanation, Stannis noted the glimmer of understanding in his brother’s eye.

“Oh right... – ha! Snow storms! Of course, of course: in the North! Bad luck you were sent there!”

Robert then proceeded to slam a heavy pat on Stannis back - as if in commiseration –, making Stannis nearly cough his lungs out, before possibly losing all hearing in his right ear, when Robert _boomed_ once more.

“But why the blazes didn’t you just order them to airlift you, Stanny-boy? What is the point of being a top-notch military-man if you can’t order all those soldier-boys to do your bidding?!”

Stannis blinked at the absurdity of his brother’s comments, before his jaw clenched one more into a tight frown, his voice firm.

“That would have been a _gross_ _misuse_ of Armed Forces equipment.”

“How stodgy you are Stannis! – A little detour-fun wouldn’t hurt anyone!”

Stannis felt his nose and mouth flare. – _Hurt. Anyone_?

“What if, whilst I had been abusing my role and used the helicopter, the base had received an emergency call? - Not to mention, with the several snow-storms I would have endangered the lives of other soldiers – men under _my_ command, who have put their trust in _my_ hands – for something as thoughtless as for personal use. As an officer is it my duty to aspire my men to a greater level, _not_ to use the military for _beneficial gain_ of any kind!”

Robert stared back for a moment, his face unreadable, but before he gave a great bug huff and then another boisterous laugh, “Oh Stannis – you never change! – Any way, let us focus on more pleasant things”, before his arm literally encircled Stannis, and Robert turn-guided him to face other people.

 

=

 

Sansa actually felt a small sense of pity for Colonel Stannis Baratheon.

From his first step into the room, Sansa couldn’t have been any more aware how uncomfortable the man seemed in this present situation. One only made even more so by his older brother. And thus, the tall, dark forbidding military man that she had met on the train was now rather befuddled by the large arm manhandling him at the present moment, whilst his older brother continued to chatter.

“I bet you have yet to meet all the gorgeous young ladies surrounding us? - Joffrey’s oh-so-lovely lady, Margaery...”

His eyes ever-so-quickly landing on Sansa, Colonel Baratheon’s stare then shifted to Margaery Tyrell. With the briefest tilt of the head and in a tone between derision and frustration, he spoke.

“Miss Tyrell, I don’t believe I ever had the pleasure.”

Both his face and voice gave all indication that he hadn’t actually found any sort of pleasure from meeting the young lady – regardless of her pleasant smile and warm welcome in return.

But oblivious, Robert had already moved on, the introduction swiftly ending. And with it, both Baratheon brothers gazes found Renly and Sansa once more.

“... And you will never guess who Renly is seeing! This gorgeous redhead: - Ned’s daughter! Can you believe it! You remember Ned – _Ned Stark_! – This is Ned’s little girl – _Sansa Stark_!”

Sansa felt her whole neck and face turn red at the introduction as well as the whole new level of scrutiny Col Baratheon gave her now. Eyes not leaving her, he drawled out.

“Actually, Miss Stark and I arrived on the same train. _Yes_ , it was such a _fortuitous_ meeting, that we not only were in the same carriage but that Miss Sansa actually sat in the empty seat opposite my own. It gave us a chance to… get to know each other a little before arriving, and, no doubt, _many_ others will covet the lady’s _attention_.”

Sansa could have sworn her stomach rolled over. This was worst than she had imagined. That as well as she was sure she was the only one of the other three that truly understood the message behind the man’s polite words... not to mention, who had picked up the faint note of menace beneath his mild tone. Even Renly’s hand around her own couldn’t dispel the chilly shiver running through her to settle in the pit of her stomach.

 

=

 

_Stark..._

When the last name had first been mentioned to him, Stannis had definitely felt a jolt of recognition. However, with the several other, more worrying bits of news that had happened at the same time, he had not thought on it further.

Stannis had definitely never heard of a ‘Sansa Stark’ before today – from Renly or anybody else. But a ‘ _Ned Stark’_... he was certain – especially given his brother over-excitement - that this was one of Robert’s friends from prep school in the Vale and then in university. Stannis was also sure that he had also met the northern man a few times, with the final time being at their parents’ funeral... Moreover, there had also possibly been something to do with a woman...? - On the other hand, given that there was a rather large age gap between Robert and himself – and the fact that Robert _was_ _Robert_ \- , Stannis had never paid all that much attention to the man, or spent time with him.

... However, _Ned Stark_ wasn’t the only ‘Stark’ name that now came to mind. Stannis knew that there were a few Starks in the North, in the Armed Forces. – Major Snow had definitely mentioned a few times a Stark...

Alas, before Stannis could possibly give the issue more thought, Robert spoke – _boomed_ – once more to Miss Stark.

“– Ah good old Ned Stark. How is the old bore anyways – still freezing his arse up north, protecting the North from slavers and pirates?”

Stannis looked skyward – _as eloquent as ever, Robert..._ _Clearly you still have_ all _of the ‘Baratheon Charm’_.

Even Miss Stark only slightly uncomfortable by the question; looking back down, Stannis notice the small shift as well as the slight tinge of pink in her cheeks.

“H-he’s now in Essos, in Volantis, for the past two years. Mainly working in an office now,... transferred after he was shot in the leg... by pirates off the Ironman Bay.”

His brother at least looked contrite (- _even if only momentarily_ ).

“Oh?... yea.. right, hum, right of course... Anyways, Renly and you – that’s wonderful! Haha, I always knew the Baratheons and the Starks were bound to get together; – if only it had been with me and Lyanna.”

Stannis suppressed the urge to role his eyes or sigh: _typical Robert_ , in one comment he was able to make his guest even more uncomfortable, as well as insult his wife, which would make her hate him even more.

Of course, totally oblivious to his mishap, or his wife’s glare, Robert only kept going.

“... not to mention, Renly is all nicely dressed and you, my dear look absolutely stunning in white – Ha! If I didn't know any better, I would think you two crazy kids are ready to head down to the chapel right now!”

There was a hitch in Stannis’ throat, him now also glaring at Robert, with Cersei. – _Stop_ talking _Robert - Keep quiet before you give our naive, romantic younger brother any more ideas_! - The rather large grin that appeared in place on Renly’s face, something shining in his younger brother’s eyes, also did not calm Stannis down one bit.

Unfortunately the sense of dread now building within him, only continued to rise up to critical levels, when said naive, romantic younger brother moved slightly closer to Miss Stark and, giving a loving peck to the inside of her wrist, interjected.

“ _Actually_ – seeing as the family is finally together – we have so news. We thought it best to not overshadow Robert on his big day... but since we have no way of knowing when we’ll all be together—”

Stannis tensed as Robert thought this was the perfect moment to exclaim - “You’re married!”

Renly chuckled in return, “Ha- ha! No... not yet anyway. But I am proud to say that I _did_ ask – propose that is - and Sansa has accepted me!”

The words delivered a jolt of shock to Stannis’ brain. Unfortunately it did not stop there. With a silent but abrupt curse, Stannis eyes followed in horror as Renly then proceeded to take out something from his pocket and present it to the red-headed temptress next to him: - their mother’s engagement ring.

 _By All the Gods! - What have you done Renly_?!

 

=

 

Sansa was frozen.

Her ears buzz, her body numb, her mind frizzled, it was as if the whole of her body and brain seemed to have gone on holiday, somewhere else, and had left everything on _sleep-mode_.

All she could do was follow as Renly continue to smile and then look down at her very much adoringly, before he brought her hand to his lips and gave them a light peck, and then sliding the huge ring that had just materialised seconds ago onto her finger.

Sansa couldn’t think of anything else but keep the smile on her face lest she face Renly full on and burst here right in front of everyone with a great big - _WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL_?!?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =
> 
> [ ](http://s284.photobucket.com/user/shortsandramblings/media/Chapter%208_zpswjgaowcp.jpg.html)
> 
> =
> 
> * - Some of you might have noticed that the Second Circle of Dante’s Inferno had been missed out, in Sansa descriptions – it was intentional as it is Lust... and since a certain dark brooding man wasn’t in the room at the time, well... ;P
> 
> Some Ages reminder: Sansa => 25 // Renly => 31 // Stannis => 37 // Robert => 50  
>  Shireen => 7 / Stan Seaworth => 7 / Tommen => 7 // Devan => 9 // Myrcella => 10 // Joffrey => 26 // Tyrion =>36 // Cersei/Jaime => 45/46 // Ned => 51/52


	9. More Information Needed

 

 

His eyes took in all of their movements.

Stannis was a military man as well as a law man. Two professions which had trained him rather well in knowing when something was not _right_... not as it appeared.

 

Ever since Renly had taken out their mother’s ring out of his pocket and slipped it onto the red-headed temptress’s delicate finger, Stannis’ gaze had followed Renly and his _fiancée_. As was customary – and Renly being his _brother_ -, he had naturally offered his brief ‘ _congratulations_ ’. The required words made, he had then swiftly moved to the side and observed as the couple accepted the well wishes from the other occupants of the room (- as well as Robert man-handling).

Most assuredly, there was _several_ things wrong with the picture presented in front of him. Above all others Stannis found _two_ that nagged more so than the rest:

1- His brother Renly had _proposed_ – and given their _mother’s ring_ – to a girl he had never mentioned to the rest of his family...

2- The girl in question did not seem the picture of joy and delight you would expect from an _engaged_ woman – engaged to a _Baratheon_ no less. Instead, there was a distinct hint of pallor on her cheeks ever since the announcement (- with only the rosy cheeks of embarrassment, from being taken into a sudden embrace by Robert, to possibly give any colour to her face)... Stannis had most definitely _not_ been the only one caught very much off guard by Renly’s ‘news’.

 

After several long minutes of the farce continuing, there was a rather abrupt shift in the scene. And, as always on alert, his eyes trailed as the two young lovers moved to and out of one of the library’s side doors.

Stannis reached into his jacket and took out his phone, unlocking the screen.

Like any capable military man would tell you, preparation was key; _preparation_ which included research... _information_ – as much information as possible.

 

=

 

After what seemed like an endless loop of successfully fake-smiling her way through all the heartfelt and not-so-heartfelt congratulations (– not to mention Robert Baratheon taking her into a massive big bear hug and calling her ‘ _sister’_ -), as soon it was appropriately possible, Sansa literally _dragged_ Renly through one of the library’s many doors to find some privacy...

... Privacy that they found in a large closet-pantry of sorts, full of linens and cleaning products.

 

Barely waiting for the door to close behind them, Sansa seethed all her Northern Fury on her ‘ _fiancé’_ (– _FIANCE_!!).

“ _Fiancée_! I’m your _Fiancée_ , _Renly_? _Really_?! Yesterday, when you called me with your _little_ problem, you mentioned the word ‘ _girlfriend_ ’ – ‘ _serious_ girlfriend’, possibly – but you _never_ , _ever_ , mentioned the words ‘ _fiancée’,_ or ‘ _engagement’,_ or ‘ _ring’_ in any of our discussions! I _think_ I would have _remembered_ if you had!... So _why_ is it that today I find myself _engaged_! With a _fiancé_! Wearing a bloody – albeit gorgeous – huge, _ring_?! You basically _proposed_ to me, Renly! Do you realise that? _You_ proposed to _me_ , without actually _asking_ me any sort of _question_ , might I add! Just thrusting a ring on my finger! In front of your whole family no less!”

At least her not-so-best-friend-anymore had the decency to look ashamed. Looking back at her rather sheepishly, it was clear that Renly was trying to find his words. (- _Well, he better find them fast_!) Alas, before her ‘ _fiancé’_ actually found the courage to open his mouth, another realisation hit Sansa like a ton of bricks, making her whole body groan in despair.

“ _Gods_!... What if your brother – who seems to be over-the-bloody-moon at the possibility of a Stark-Baratheon wedding - decides to, I-don’t-know: _call_ his old buddy-buddy - _my dad_ \- whose name he seems to really like repeating every minute or so? What if Robert calls my dad and tells him ‘ _the super-duper-amazing news_ ’?! What _then_ , Ren?”

“Well... I... to be honest, I hadn’t thought of that possibility... I mean Robert goes on and on about _‘the good old days’_ and ‘ _all his great friends’_ , but - _come on -_ there is basically _twenty_ years between us. He may be my brother, but we don’t exactly _hang out_ or anything like that. How was I suppose to know ‘ _Ned’_ that he sometimes mentions in one of his ridiculous anecdotes was _your dad_ , Admiral Stark. I mean it’s not like _you_ go around calling him _‘Ned’_ – or even _Admiral_ for that matter. And why would _I_ mention Robert’s ‘best bud’, who he hasn’t actually seen in like _ten years,_ to _you_? We have much more interesting things to talk about instead of Robert and ‘ _Ned’_... – But think about it Sansa: they haven’t seen each other in so long; do you really think Robert would really call up your father? And how would he even get the information?”

As if to answer Renly’s dim-witted question, just then they both were able to hear Robert Baratheon booming voice exclaim loudly through the several doors and walls – “ _Where’s have those two love birds gone to?_ – _We need to talk about Ned!_ ”

 

Lips pinched in a firm line, Sansa glared back at Renly with a pointed look.

“ _Now_ would be a _very_ good time to explain what possessed you to do such a stupid thing as get us _engaged_ , Renly, or, so help me, I will walk back in there, and tell them all this was some stupid elaborate joke that went wrong! _Very wrong_!”

At her statement, Renly’s seemed to blanch more – if that was at all possible. He then proceeded to put his hands up in front of Sansa, either in submission, or, most likely, to try and calm Sansa down.

“Ok San – let’s not do anything rash... I see that I might have jumped the gun slightly-”

Sansa glare only intensified, “- _slightly_?”

“Ok... ok... I might have _hugely_ miscalculated, Sansa. And for that I am really sorry... – _By the Seven_ I am _really_ so _sorry_. B-but you have to understand, Sansa: I just _had_ to.”

Sansa’s eyebrows rose: – _really_?

“Let’s be honest here, _Robert_ is a danger in himself. The way he kept going _on_ and _on_ about Margaery could always be his ‘present’ from Joffrey, whilst you weren’t here... – _Yes_ , it _was_ a joke, but it was a ‘ _Robert joke_ ’, so you really can’t be too sure how _far_ he continue his ‘ _jokes_ ’. To be honest, it’s best to be prepared, and _protect_ you from him in any way possible. Even drunk, he would most likely not _actually_ hit on you _if_ you are my _fiancée_...”—

\- Sansa blinked, as Renly took a small pause, looking in the distance as if considering something.

“... Though he _did_ sleep with the maid of honour at Stannis’ wedding... literally _in_ the bridal suite...”—

\- Sansa blinked a second time, as Renly continued to recall and consider the anecdote further, before waving his hand in the air, as if dismissing it.

“... But that was _ages_ ago... and it was _Stannis_... In any case wasn’t like he had slept with _Selyse_ ; – just her cousin, who had been dating some bloke from the Reach...”—

\- By now Sansa was wide-eyed, trying to actually comprehend all of what Renly was saying. Unfortunately, oblivious to her look of mystification, his head shaking as if clearing the images of the mentioned wedding from his head, Renly continued.

“... In any case, with the two of us engaged, it would also _protect_ you from my shit nephew. – The way Joffrey was looking at you earlier freaking _creeped_ me out. At least Robert only looked at you like you were a tasty steak... ”—

\- At this latest absurd remark, Sansa couldn’t help it, and dryly replied,

“ _Why_ Renly, you definitely are the most complimentary boyfr- _sorry_ _fiancé_ \- I have ever had...”

“Not me, _Robert_ – Robert was the one looking at you like a tasty steak. To me, my dear, you are my _sun_ , my _moon_ , my _stars_... just as I am yours.”

Sansa rolled her eyes, her frustration ever present,

“Well, that’s me _relieved_. - I am just _sooo_ over the moon that I am _your_ _fiancée,_ and that I am to attach myself to such a ‘ _lovely and caring’_ family.”

“To be fair: I _did_ warn you. – Why do you think I spend most of my time in either in King's Landing or Highgarden?”

Without needing to think, Sansa automatically replied, “ _Loras_.”

“Well... yes, there _is_ Loras... B-but also mainly to get away from all... all _that_ ”, gesturing the door with large wind-mill gestures.

With a large sigh, arms finally stopping flaying about, Renly added, “I mean – _really -_ Stannis kind of had the brightest idea, and escaped as far away as possible, to places no one in their right mind would want to go: first that creepy island and then in the cold and dreary North—”

“- Hey! That’s my home you’re talking about!”

Looking pointedly back at Sansa, Renly retorted, “And yet, _you_ left it as well.”

Sansa frowned, her lips pinching, “You bloody well know that the reason I left Winterfell had _nothing_ to do with the North and all to do with my aspirations as a ballet dancer... and my mom’s aspirations for me to marry some guy and have all his many babies.”

“Yeah- yeah... horrible mother... doesn’t want you to dance, thinks she knows what’s best for you – _so_ _horrible_... But that’s exactly my point! Don’t you realise: even _if_ Robert finds a way to inform your dad, it would help _you_ get your mom off your back, and stop her and your aunt do all their machinations, setting you up with Harry _What-his-Face_ or _Not-all-that_ - _Small_ -Jon from Way-up-North, and all the others I can’t remember right now...”

Sansa gave him a piercing look, staring at Renly for several beats.

“That can’t be all the reasons. No matter how rash you sometimes are Renly, you wouldn’t have bloody _proposed_ because of just Robert’s lurid stares... Most certainly _not_ to because of my mom, or Crazy-Lysa, or Harry... or Small-Jon... _No_ – there has to be something else. What is it Ren?”

Renly blinked, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I am _waiting._ Renly. _Orys_. _Robar_. _Baratheon_.”

“Hum... alright... _alright_ ; would you believe it if I said it also had to do with Cersei?”

Sansa’s eyebrows rose once more.

“... As you know, I not the best fan of Cersei... or any of the Lannisters really. – _Gods,_ they think they are so much better than the rest of us... I mean you’ve just met them but surely you can feel the golden-shit oozing out them, no?”—

“- Renly, the _explanation_.”

“Oh, yea, right... right... Well, as you know I was in a bit of a nightmare situation, coming here alone. I mean, that’s why I called you to come save me. And then today, I arrived alone waiting for you... trying to get to you... I mean, I knew you were coming – that you wouldn’t let me down – but I was just getting a little nervous, y’u know. And then – _of course_ – not before long, all I wanted to kill Joffrey – force-feeding him a poisoned apple or what-ever, something _painful_... - and, in the same way, wanted to quite literally wanted to strangle Cersei... and there was Robert... and Tyrion... Even Marg there was putting me on _edge_ , her grandmother’s shadow following behind her...”—

-“Renly, get on with it.”

“Yes – of course, I’m just setting the stage.”

“Set it _faster_.”

“Alright, alright... – Well, let’s just focus on _Cersei_ then. – _Gods_ still don’t know what brought Robert ever marry that woman!-“

“- _Renly_!”

“- Cersei just kept on going on and on about ‘ _Lannister-this_ ’, ‘ _Lannister-that_ ’, and talking about Great-Big-Daddy-Lion, and her ‘ _wonderful, amazing’_ twin-brother (- who isn’t actually bloody well _here_ -), and some ‘ _gorgeous’_ gold jewellery she had gotten recently... and also slipping in that all the girls wanted to date _her_ precious boy (– even though she clearly _loathes_ Margaery -) whilst my ‘companion’ was a no-show... Well, let’s just say, I just had to get out of there: clear my head or something, y’ know... So I went into town... tried to calm down... mulled things over... tried calling you... tried calling Loras (- but, _apparently_ , he is on some retreat thing with his brothers -)... did some shopping – actually got this really nice jacket that I really want to show yo-“

“-Renly, this explanation is taking bloody ages!”

“ _Alright_! Anyway, I ended up in the bank (- ‘cos of this cottage I remembered I wanted to possibly buy for Loras and I -) and ended up going to the family safety deposit box... and I saw mom’s ring... And then: _Bing_! It was like a light bulb exploded with brightness above my head, my idea was so brilliant!”

“Yes... I cant wait to hear this.”

“ _Well_ \- I might have still been young when Robert married... even when my parents past away, but I know mom _never_ liked that blonde cow. She made sure Robert never gave Cersei her engagement ring. She even had stipulations made in the will that assured Cersei would _never_ get it... Stannis didn’t seem to want it - even when he actually became slightly human and married Selyse (- and it’s not like that a ring was the first problem in _that_ marriage -) so in all accounts, the ring is for the next in line: me! – So yea, I couldn’t help it! For just this once I wanted to put that Golden-Bitch in her place and remind her of something her ‘ _Lannister Amazing-ness’_ would never get her...”

By now Renly’s cheerful self was back again. His eyes were literally glooming in the dim-lit room,

“... I just _knew_ it would piss her off _so_ much. Did you _not_ see the look on her face – the fury in her eyes! – _Gods,_ the woman was positively _seething_. By the Seven, if only I had had a camera! It just might have made the rest of this weekend worth it! ”

Sansa looked at him incredulously, _not_ at all _happy-bubbly_.

“ _No,_ Renly – I _did_ not notice my future _sister-in-law_ glaring daggers at _me_ , because of a bloody ring that looks like I could punch somebody’s eye out with...”

She took a long breath, trying to calm her rising fury.

“So... let me get this straight. The reason you _proposed_ – actually got us engaged - is because you wanted to _one-up_ Cersei Lannister?”

Looking at his feet, voice a bit muffled, Renly gave a small nod.

“Yes... and, _maybe_ , also the fact that Jon Arryn and the rest of BI are refusing to take me seriously, thinking I am slight ‘ _flighty’_ and ‘ _impulsive’_... (- possibly seeing a second Robert in the making)... just a guess, though.”

 

Sansa blinked.

 

“Sorry – _what_?”

Renly gave a long sigh, before looking back at Sansa.

“I... I had a meeting with Jon earlier this week. I am over thirty, have been working at BI for several years now... so I asked him why I hadn’t been named Vice President yet... as well as being the clear choice when Robert retires (- not to mention when Jon retires). - I mean, _my_ _name_ is on the bloody-Building! This is our _family’s_ company!... Let’s just say that Arryn informed me that ‘ _for the moment, the board felt that I was rather too flighty and impulsive’_ to be given such a large responsibility in the company.”

Sansa groaned.

“So you thought getting engaged would change their minds? – Renly, this - what _just_ happened in there - is a prime example of you being _flighty_ and _impulsive_!”

“I just had this moment, _ok_! I was in the family vault today, I saw mom’s ring... Arryn’s words had been ringing in my ear all week: _‘not serious or dependable enough at this present time’._ I thought getting engaged would be the perfect way to prove that I'm serious... a proof of _stability_... not to mention the fact that the whole Board will be at Robert’s Celebration, in three days, and I knew that _you_ would be there, all amazing, and able to convince them that they were wrong and that _I_ was also amazing...”

“ _Renly_...”

“Sansa, I know I should have told you, and I’m asking a lot, but _come on_! They still have _Robert_ has head of the company! I might have had a few ‘ _moments’_ , but I have been working my ass off for that company – _my_ family’s company. They are just a bunch of stuffy old men who are too scared of changing and want to stay in the Dragon Age! – And it's not like I could get engaged to Loras. Even if he was ready to settle down, and the law _actually_ let us - all those old stooges would probably have an apoplexy!...”

 

Sansa took a long breath, briefly closing her eyes.

“Renly, no offence but I don’t want to marry you. No matter how much I complain about mom and her date-set-ups, I _do_ want to meet a nice - _straight_ \- guy...”

“But we don't actually _have_ to get married. Just a long engagement, to which we both part ways amicably, and still stay amazing friends; - proving even more how _mature_ and _serious_ I am...”

Renly’s dark blue eyes poured into Sansa’s as his pleases and arguments mulled in her brain (- and heart).

“Why me?”

“... Only you could make this all happen and convince them all. Not only are you my best friend San – and thus know _everything_ about me - but you got the looks, the grace and poise, not to mention the name and heritage: your family is _Navy-Royalty_. Not to mention, your mom raised you to be a social-philanthropic wife; you know how to handle these upper-crust vipers and hens...”—

\- Before Sansa could think of a reply, the door suddenly opened. What followed was definitely even more unexpected: three small heads popping into the room, to stare at Renly and Sansa. Two blonde heads, a girl and a boy – much like Mrs Baratheon – and one dark haired girl – like Mr Baratheon; all looking at them with a certain level of curiosity and confusion (- and shyness for the smaller girl).

 

A small crease formed on Sansa’s brow (- pretty certain Renly had told her his brother only had _three_ children -) whilst a frown also appeared on the older, blonde girl.

“Are you playing hide and seek, as well? – Because you’re not very good at it: you need to stay _quiet_ to not be found so _easily_.”

 

 

 

=

 

 

[ ](http://s284.photobucket.com/user/shortsandramblings/media/Chapter%209_zpsjlf1l2no.jpg.html)

 

=

 


	10. Some answers, more questions

 

Sansa blinked at the three little heads staring right back at her. In contrast, tension seemed to flow from Renly, as he gave a soft chuckle to the trio.

“Hey Myrcella... Tommen and Shireen, there you guys are. Meet my... friend, Sansa. – I was just... showing her around... she wanted to know what was in here.”

At the – rather bizarre – introduction, manners sunk back into her and Sansa smiled politely to the three.

“Hello, I’m Sansa.”

The two younger gave small nervous smiles with the boy even giving a soft ‘ _hello’_. On the other hand, the girl ‘Myrcella’ gaze was still on Renly in a manner not to different from Sansa’s previous ‘ _are-you-shitting-me’_ look.

“She wanted to see inside a _closet_?”

“Yeah – she... she’s from the North...”

Sansa glared at Renly, who had the good sense to try and change subject,

“Anyway, now that we’ve seen it, we’d better get back to the library and join the others...”

With the suggestion and added arm movements from Renly, the three children moved out the way for the both of them to get out of the closet. However, before Sansa could follow the three towards the library, Renly held her back, hand on her wrist, eyes back on full worry mode.

“You’re... you’re not going to say anything, are you Sansa... – _please_?”

She stared back into the big puppy-eyed look her friend seemed to have perfected for this exact moment. She gave out a long sigh, already regretting her answer.

“No, Renly, I won’t say anything...”

“Thank you _so much_ San. You are truly _amazing_.”

“Yea... yea... _bloody_ amazing... Don’t make me regret it. Though, don’t think we are done with all this: we _are_ going to talk about this further later.”

“Of course, of course: we need to _strategise_... plus, we need to make sure you look _stunning_ on my arm on Sunday.”

Sansa gave a small huff, “Mm-hmm... yeah, _stunning_... by the way: have you warned lovely _Loras_ that at this moment in time _you_ are _engaged_? – You know, especially since his sister is here, with us?”

 

To which, Renly proceeded to blanch.

 

=

 

A quick exploration on the standard - _and maybe not so standard_ \- search engines on Stannis’ phone and he _finally_ had at least _some_ answers...

 

For one: ‘ _Ned’_ Stark was none other than _Admiral Eddard Rodrik Stark_ , the current Northern Ambassador for the Valyrian Peninsula.

Leave it to Robert to never mention (- or possibly not realise -) that his old ‘school buddy’, ‘ _Ned_ ’, was a heavily decorated naval officer, who had helped in several critical conflicts in the last thirty years... Or not even mention that his friend was married to Catelyn Stark, nee Tully, daughter of the late shipping magnet, Hoster Tully, and niece to Admiral Brynden Tully – the war hero... And that wasn’t even mentioning the fact that Mrs Stark’s sister was apparently married to _Jon Arryn_ – Baratheon Industries' CFO.

In addition to this first nut of information, Stannis easily found that Ambassador Stark had five - rather accomplished - children.

The eldest was Commander Robb Stark* of the Northern Royal Fleet - having clearly followed his father’s footsteps in the Royal Navy, and doing rather well from the commendations the young officer had already received.

Arya Stark, the third child, was a medal winning fencer, trained in all three weapons - epée, foil and sabre – though having won several Championships in Westeros as well as around the World in _sabre_ , and was, apparently set to enter her second Olympic Games next year, with her trainer, the retired triple gold medallist, Sandor Clegane.

The second son, Brandon Stark, was a young Teacher Assistant to the renowned Professor Brynden Rivers, in ‘ _Greenseery’_ at the Citadel. The youngest, Rickon Stark, was still in school, at Winterfell Academy, and, in all likelihood, was following in his father’s and his older brother’s footsteps into the Navy.

Of course, in addition to all this, his research had also shown that the Ambassador also had one nephew, who was none other than Major Jon Snow.

 

At least this preliminary research had clarified certain questionable aspects about Miss Stark. The credit card, ‘ _Eddard-something’_ , was clearly her father’s (– _which is somewhat acceptable... though she should have just bought her ticket on her own card really_!). In the same way, one could also accept that the worn out Great Navy coat she had been wearing, was either her father’s or brother’s old one ( _– though, best to check and confirm... can always be from another wide-eyed boy, who the young lady met through her brother or father... or in a random naval barrack_ ).

As for the slight misunderstanding with regards to Major Snow: how was Stannis to realise that they were related? The young officer had never mentioned his talented ballet dancer cousin. Stannis was sure he would have remembered if the topic had come up. – Then again, he had to acknowledge that Snow wasn’t really one for idle chitchat... nor was Stannis for that matter. Not to mention, with so many rowdy, female-deprived army men in Castle Black, maybe it would not be the most sensible thing to mention your rather attractive, twenty-something cousin.

 

As for the young lady herself...

Miss _Sansa Celia Alyssa Stark_ was five-and-twenty (- _does her family not mind that her... companion is_ several _years older than her_? -) and currently lived, for a large part of the year, in Gulltown, in the Vale (- _several hours from her intended_...)

Given the few photos with her family or just parents, Robert had at least been correct in his (- rather inappropriate -) comment that she looked just liked her mother, though ballet seemed to have made her more graceful and flexible... _supple_...

Having trained in at the Wintefell Arts Educational School and the Royal Ballet School, Miss Stark had apparently started her professional career in the _Riverland Royal Ballet_. However, after only one year, she had moved to the leading Westerosi ballet company: the _Mountains of the Moon Company_ , where she became a principal dancer at just twenty years of age. Already being renowned for her ‘ _unique combination of a tall and athletic physique while dancing with soft lyricism_ ’ - at least according to the Dance and Theatre critic _Varys_ – as well as having received several accolades, including the most promising newcomer four years ago, and selected as the joint winner of the Westerosi Achievement Award in the Performing Arts category** a year later, she apparently sometimes performed as a guest artist with other leading companies in Winterfell, King's Landing, and Highgarden, as well as Braavos and Valyria in Essos.

The few photos he found of her not performing included some with other ballerinas - _male_ and female -, several with her family, and with certain key patrons to the Arts, including Stannis’ younger brother... as well as Anya Waynwood and her nephew, Captain _Harrold_ Hardyng (- _very similar name to a certain caller_ -)... Doran Martell and his brother, _Oberyn Martell_... Loras _Tyrell_ , and Wendel _Manderly_... to only name a few—

-“What are you doing all the way over here?”

Stannis looked up with a jolt, moving the screen of his phone - and the image he had been currently looking at, of Miss Stark smiling and laughing rather beautifully to the renown womaniser Oberyn Martell – closer to his chest away from possible prying eyes, to find Davos staring back at him a strange look on his face.

“ _Pardon_?”

“I just came to see all was alright. You seemed to ready to throttle whatever is on that screen as well as whoever is behind it.”

Giving a rough cough, Stannis said the first thing that came to mind,

“I just received another email from Castle Black: there has been another incident at Craster Town, and apparently, Lieutenant-Colonel Janos Slynt and several others are convinced the Free-folk are to blame.”

“ _Janos Slynt_ – not the most pleasant man, if I remember correctly - _no_?”

“Not the description I would use, but yes, ‘ _not the most pleasant’_ man by far. Unfortunately, Brigadier Alyster Throne is of the same opinion as Slynt, at least when it comes to Free-folk, which is making the discussions with the Land-Beyond rather difficult.”

Before Davos could reply though, the door which Renly and his _fiancée_ had left from, opened once more, and in addition to the two lovers, three others also entered: Robert’s younger two children – the more well-mannered ones – and _Shireen_.

 

At the sight of her, Stannis felt a sudden jolt of shame run through him. He couldn’t believe that he had been so caught by Renly’s temptress and the followed engagement announcement that he had actually forgotten to greet his own _daughter_. – By the Seven, he was going to turn into _Selyse_ if he wasn’t careful... or _worse_ : _Robert_ and _Cersei_.

By the shy smile she gave him, heading in his direction, at least it seemed that she was oblivious to his unforgivable failing. Stannis could only assume the reason being that she had been playing somewhere else in the castle with her cousins, and they had only decided to return to the library now – mostly from hearing an increase in volume of Robert’s continual booming...

Speaking of which, Shireen had barely reached his side and given him a timid ‘ _hello_ ’, Stannis returning the greeting with a possibly even more awkward welcome and embrace, his hands giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, when Robert’s loud voice filled the room once more.

“Ah! There are our two love-birds! You’ve been missing the celebratory champagne! – Should we even ask where you two have been?”

From where he was standing, Stannis did not miss the slight reddening of Miss Stark’s cheeks, whilst Renly answered,

“Sansa was getting slightly peckish, so I took her to the kitchens to find a small snack.”

Unfortunately for the young couple, that was at that moment the young lady’s stomach decided to let out a rather impressive growl, in more or less same timing as Robert’s daughter frowning to Renly and stating just as loudly,

“I thought she wanted to see inside the maid’s closet? – That’s why the two of you were in there.”

Robert previous chuckle changed into an explosion of laughter – “ _Ho-ho-ho_! I bet she did! – She was most likely _thanking_ your Uncle Renly for his proposal and lovely ring, no doubt!”

Whilst others joined into Robert’s humour, chuckles from Tyrion Lannister and Davos, smiles from Miss Tyrell and Robert’s eldest – possibly calculating for the former and definitely disturbing from the latter -, and a glare from Cersei, the children thankfully seemed to have not fully comprehended the remark and wonder what exactly the young lovers had been doing in said ‘closet’. Stannis, on the other, had a pretty good idea... and found nothing humorous about it all.

 

Yet, the children had clearly caught on to _some_ as the three young gazes seemed to merge to the ring on the red-temptress’ finger. Stannis then heard Shireen’s voice softly rising at his side.

“Does that mean Uncle Renly is going to marry Miss Sansa? Will Miss Stark will be my aunt... just like Aunt Cersei?”

Stannis closed his eyes ever-so-briefly at the question, and images of future family events appearing in his mind. – His daughter’s last words ‘ _just like Aunt Cersei_ ’ seemed the most apt description of Miss Stark being in the family’s future.

\- _Not if I can help it_.

A dry cough, throat tight, he decided to answer her with the _current_ facts.

“That is correct. – _If_ Renly (- _big_ _emphasis on the ‘if’_ -) gets married to Miss Stark, she will become your aunt.”

The statement was, alas, even more unsettling said out loud.

Shireen, on the other hand, seemed to consider the answer in a more hopeful light. In an even much softer voice, she looked from the couple currently talking to Margaery Tyrell up to Stannis, and asked in a rather optimistic tone,

“Do you think she will show us some chickens and snakes?”

Stannis blinked, thoroughly confused by the question. Looking to his side, Davos was also clearly just as baffled as he was.

“What chickens and snakes?”

Looking down at her feet, fidgeting ever-so-slightly, Shireen clarified,

“I... Myrcella, Tommen and I, we were playing... that’s when we heard Uncle Renly... he was talking with Miss Sansa in the closet. We didn’t _mean_ to listen – I know eavesdropping is bad -... but we were just so confused as to why they were being so loud. That’s when we heard Uncle Renly speaking to Miss Stark about her knowing how to hold snakes and chickens... ‘ _vipers’_ _are_ snakes, aren’t they?”

“ _Vipers_?”

“Yes – _vipers_. Uncle Renly said ‘... _you know how to handle these_... something-something _vipers and hens’_. So you see: Miss Sansa knows how tame snakes and chickens... Though personally I would prefer having cats... or dogs”, the explanation finishing with a discernible note of desire in her soft voice at the word ‘ _dog_ ’.

However, before Stannis could think more on the words Shireen had overheard, or the thought that his daughter might well be entering the phase where children really wanted a pet above all other things, Shireen seemed to have come to another realisation.

“With Renly and Miss Sansa getting married, does that mean I will have more cousins to play with, like Tommen and Myrcella?”

 

Of course that was when Davos thought it a good idea to let out a chuckle, very badly concealed as a cough.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =
> 
> =
> 
> Chapter slightly shorter (apologies) - as hopeful compensation, I hope you guys like this drawing/sketch I did of dancing Sansa ;)
> 
> =
> 
> * - Just for information, Robb is a Commander in the Royal Fleet. The equivalent in the Army is Lieutenant-Colonel (1 under Stannis, 1 over Jon)
> 
> ** - For those interested, Sansa’s accomplishments are inspired by those the British ballerina, Darcey Bussell.


	11. Bright and Early

 

 

A long sigh, a last re-read, and he clicked the _send_ button.

It was only when the screen confirmed that the email had sent that he let his head drop a few centimetres and run his hands through his – definitely receding – hair, before staring blankly outside the window.

 

... By the Seven why had the army ever let incompetent men like Janos Slynt go as far as to being Lieutenant-Colonel?

No wonder Stannis was ever so slowly losing his hair.

His lips thinning, Stannis once more regretted coming to this weekend celebration. Or even coming _earlier_ than need be. It was Friday by all the Gods sake! We couldn’t all be Robert; most people _worked_ on a Friday. Albeit the fact that yesterday as well as today were technically public holidays, it did not mean the world stopped turning and new problems did not arise. – Case in point with Caster Town. This whole situation in the Land Beyond wasn’t going to resolve itself, especially with men like Slynt (- and possibly even Thorne -) making absurd decisions – as well as sexist and racist comments - every-other-time they opened their mouths.

In any case, Davos, Renly, and Robert, all in their own way, had confirmed that Jon Arryn _was_ working at BI Tower today before heading down to Storm's End this afternoon.

For the briefest of moments Stannis wondered if it would be worse, still working at BI with Robert - or, more accurately, _for_ Robert - doing all the things his brother should be doing, in addition to his own work, whilst getting little to no credit.

He definitely did not envy Jon Arryn the task.

On the other hand, Arryn did have the subtle advantage that Robert would actually sometimes listen to him, even if for a short span at a time.

 

Truth be told, the only reason Stannis had really come, and even come _early_ , was Shireen.

Her being in the Crownlands most of the year whilst he slowly froze to death in a northern military base definitely offered little opportunities for interaction, even with the possibility of Skype.

With her boarding school having done like most others, doing the four day weekend, Stannis had acknowledged that this celebratory weekend provided as good an occasion as any to spend time with his daughter, all the while allowing her to also play with other children her own age. – Stannis wasn’t foolish enough to believe a seven year would want to spend her all of her time with a middle aged man, even if he was her father. No, at her age she would want to play with other children: Davos’ children and her two younger cousins.

 

The corners of his thinned mouth turned downward as he remembered something from last night.

_“With Renly and Miss Sansa getting married, does that mean I will have more cousins to play with, like Tommen and Myrcella?”_

_Aye_ – Shireen had all but confirmed last night that she was eager to spend time with other children.

Unfortunately, yesterday – putting the newest Land-Beyond problems aside – had also proven to Stannis that it had definitely been a good thing that he had come, and come _early_. Based on Robert’s ridiculous reaction to having a ‘ _Stark sister-in-law’_ , it was clearly be up to _Stannis_ to hopefully be able to save Renly from a disastrous marriage (- like clearly no-one had been able to do for Robert’s... and even possibly his own failed one).

No matter the family and name she was linked to, and how accomplished and upstanding Miss Stark appeared to be, there was definitely something _off_ about her, as well as _off_ about her ‘engagement’ to his brother.

\- Let’s not forget that _Cersei_ was from one of the wealthiest families in Westeros. Her father, Tywin Lannister, was a respected (– though also definitely feared by most -) businessman, her twin brother was a skilled commander and war hero (- though Stannis was certain that Jaime Lannister had reached the rank of Major General rather _prematurely_ by his father’s influence -), and even the (– nearly as drunk and lewd as Robert -) youngest Lannister was renown Historian and best seller author... Even Cersei had been a rather successful model in her teens as well as having received some positive reviews to the clothing line she had produced in the early years of her marriage to Robert.

Miss Stark also seemed to have the same regrettable feature as Stannis’ only current sister-in-law of clearly craving the continual attention of men. - Stannis definitely had not forgotten the several photos he had seen of the young lady with Oberyn Martell, Loras Tyrell, Wendel Manderly, Captain Harrold Hardygn... Nor had he forgotten the more than questionable phone conversation the whole train carriage had been privy to yesterday... Or the men waving and smiling at her - and her _responding_ \- from the platform at the Twins.

Moreover, it had definitely been rather odd when Robert had insisted that the young couple would share a room, Cersei had not been the only one not that taken by the idea. Miss Stark had protested quite prettily, using ‘ _propriety’_ as an excuse. Nevertheless, Robert had gotten his way (- like he usually did -), calling to the fact that they were _engaged_. (- On the other hand, Cersei had put her foot down for the matter of her own son sharing a room with _his_ companion, stating that Joffrey and Miss Tyrell were _not_ engaged.)

From the whole exchange, then as well as now, Stannis wondered if the young northern lady had hoped her own room, to be able to take secretive phone calls from other men... Or even be able to sneak out and find these other men, whilst Renly and the rest of the household were asleep...

 

All of a sudden, from the corner of his eye, Stannis noticed a glimmer of red flickering outside, in the morning light. A jolt ran through him, certain of the disturbance - as if his troubled thoughts had invoked her materialization. – _Miss Stark_.

His frown deemed into a scowl, as his eyes followed the lonely figure walking through the castle grounds towards the knot gardens and hedges.

What could she possibly be doing outside, up so early, on a cold winter morning?

– The question was most troubling given the thoughts Stannis had just had, moments ago, about the lady, as well as Stannis knowing for a fact that his brother – her ‘ _fiancé_ ’ - was _not_ an early riser.

 

 

=

 

 

If there were two things Sansa did not envy Loras Tyrell, it was the fact that Renly _snored_ , and the fact that he would become some kind of wannabe starfish, spreading out and taking over most of the double bed’s available space, as he slept.

 _Although_ \- asleep he did look rather adorable, with his hair mussed, his mouth slightly open... He had looked even more youthful and guileless than awake.

 _To think he wants people to believe that we are engaged, and that he is ready to marry._..

Sansa gave a soft not-that-ladylike snort.

No offence to her best friend but Jon Arryn was right: he was definitely still way too impulsive to take on such a serious role in his family’s company. He would probably take marriage just as seriously as he did pretty much everything else: making decisions and actions full of good intension, but without properly thinking them through or carrying them out in an appropriate manner.

Mr Arryn was going to have a field day when he learnt of the ‘ _engagement’_.

Which of course lead to another blatant problem Renly had not taken into account: as much as Jon Arryn stayed in King's Landing and her aunt Lysa stayed mainly in the Vale (– to the extent that the last time Sansa had actually seen Mr Arryn was during one of her stays in King's Landing, four or so years ago -) the married couple _did_ communicate and interact with one another.

If Arryn was told about her engagement to Renly Baratheon, then Lysa would more than likely going to find out, which meant her mother would also definitely find out.

All this made it all the more imperative that Sansa speak with her parents about her ‘engagement’ before they possibly find out through Robert, or Lysa and her husband.

 

If only Renly had kept his big beautiful mouth shut. If he had, she would still be in her own room, possibly reading her latest novel comfortably in bed, whilst waiting for Renly to wake up for breakfast.

 _But no_...

Being woken at the early hours by her bed partner’s snoring and pushing, it had seemed like a good time to slide one of Renly’s larger jumpers over her shirt and camisole - for it to even cover most of her leggings – before taking her dad’s Great Navy coat and a pair of wellington boots she found in one of the wing’s entrances to the internal gardens.

Her feet currently trudging along the uneven grounds, through the knot gardens, Sansa was more than relieved to have bundled up (- as well as thankfully being from the North). As pleasant as the few rays of sunlight were, leaving a touch of warmth on her face, Sansa could still feel the crisp morning air and cold temperature, not to mention being able to actually _see_ her breath in front of her.

 

At least, with the time difference between Valyria and Storm's End, she wouldn’t be calling her dad _too_ early for him...

... Nor would there be anyone here to bother her or wonder why she was crazy enough to take such an early morning walk.

 

At long last reaching the promised higher evergreen hedges, Sansa let her body guide her through them as she reluctantly took out her phone. Ever so slowly reaching the correct number, she felt her teeth bite her lower bit before finding the urge and bravery to press the _call_ button.

There was the sound of the phone ringing several times... and then finally –

_\- “Well, if it isn’t one of my Northern princesses calling me. - Good morning Sansa.”_

Sansa couldn’t help but smile at her father’s childhood name for her.

“Hi dad. How are you? - I’m not calling at a bad time am I?”

_“Not at all Sansa, I’ve just finished reading through a rather long and boring document Cassel sent over, so I welcome the distraction.”_

“Oh, sorry. You’re at the office?”

There was a soft chuckle on the other end,

“ _Well we can’t_ all _be on holiday. Besides, I don’t think Valyrians care much for Westerosi holidays_...”

“Fair enough... but at least you have the sunshine.”

“ _Oh, Gods – don’t remind me... I haven’t seen snow in over a_ year. _I swear that would make any northerner want to lock himself indoors. But anyways, enough about me: how are you? - It is rather early over there, isn’t it? Is everything alright?”_

“Yes, yes... everything is fine... all fine... I...”

 

Sansa’s voice faltered, as her throat tightened.

This was the other reason she had not slept well: her father and his Stark honourable values.

If there was one thing Sansa was certain about her father it was that Eddard Stark would never condone of the call-for-help deception Renly had concocted, or the additional sham of an engagement Sansa had agreed to be a part of.

It had been her father who had understood and supported Arya when she had stated she wanted to do fencing – a sport Catelyn had deemed too masculine... And he had stood by Sansa when she had made it clear that ballet was no longer just an ‘ _amusing past time’_ that would sound nice to talk about with the ladies at ‘ _The Club’_ but that she wanted to become a professional dancer. Above all else he was a man to believe in stay true to oneself.

If she revealed everything, he would probably demand that Sansa and Renly confess their actions as well as the actual nature of their relationship...

All this meant one thing she really did not want to do: _lie_. To her dad. The man who even now treated her like his little princess... who had given her dolls even in her teens (- cause, as great as he was, he hadn’t realised that girls didn’t really want dolls when they hit puberty -)... who protected her from monsters in her childish nightmares, and much more real fiends when she was older...

 

The sound of his voice on the other end, sounding slightly concerned, brought her back to the here and now.

“ _Sansa - Are you sure, you’re alright?... You sound slightly... off –_ hesitant...”

A slow breath to calm herself, and she charged forward,

“... Yeah... everything is great here. I... actually have some news. - I had planned on coming to visit you guys soon... and telling you directly. Unfortunately, Renly kind of dropped the bomb, informing his whole family before we had a chance to chat...you remember my... _f-friend_ , Renly, right?”

“ _Yes, of course. Your friend who works in King's Landing. He goes to see quite frequently to your ballet performances, no?_ ”

“Yes, that’s right. Well - _basically_ \- we have gone to his older brother’s nameday celebration this weekend. And, as I arrived last night, we actually realised that his brother and you knew each other: you were apparently friends from school and university. – How crazy is that?”

There was the expected intrigue in his voice - “ _Oh, really? - Who?_ ”

“Robert, Robert Baratheon...”

Intrigued turned to genuine surprise - “Robert. _Well I’ll be... haven’t seen that bugger in ten years or so. - Wait does that mean your friend_ ‘Renly’ _is none other than_ Renly Baratheon, _Robert’s little brother Renly?.._. _Such a small world; I actually met Renly Baratheon a few times, when I would join Robert at his family’s townhouse in King's Landing, during breaks. I was even there for their parents’ funeral; Robert had already been working for the family company by then, but Renly had just finished high school if I remember correctly, – poor lad. Don’t think I’ve seen him since... I guess_ Renly _is a common enough name. I just never had put two and two together from the few times you had mentioned him._ ”

“Yeah... small world. Well I guess it’s just about to get even smaller cos... Well _– hum -_... Renly and I, we got engaged!” - Her voice trembled ever-so-slightly as she tried to put as much excitement as possible in the damning words.

As for the other end, there was a brief of pauses, before the distinct tone full of astonishment came.

“Engaged _? Wow... Well that’s a surprise... a good surprise of course. - Congratulations Sansa, I really happy for you... I just hadn’t even realised that you two were... an item, f-from the way you talked about him. – By the Old Gods, I guess I will have to properly get to know this young man of yours now... But... Sansa, sorry if this sounds a little indelicate but I have to ask..._ ”

Her voice wobbled further, as her heart paced all that much faster –“Yes?”

“ _Well, from the few times you mentioned Renly... I had gotten the impression that... how to say... he... he seemed to..._ like—“

“- men?”

“ _Yes... I had gotten the impression that he liked_ men _. You_ had _mentioned a certain_ Loras _a few times, when speaking about Renly_...” - The worry was definitely still there in his voice – probably going from wondering how to reveal quite a significant detail to his daughter about the man she had just gotten engaged to, to worrying as to _why_ she had gotten engaged to a man who preferred other men...

“Hum... yeah... He likes both, men and women, dad... He’s a very... _modern_ and _open_ person. But – _hum_ \- please don’t tell mom... I’m not sure how she would react. Besides, some things should to stay private - between a couple - no?”

“ _Of course, Sansa... of course... Yes, it might be wise not to tell your mother that aspect_.”

“As for Loras... Things ended on good terms;- just realised things weren’t meant to be, you know. Believe it or not, we are all still very good friends now.” (- _Although, from yesterday night’s conversation, I highly doubt that Loras will be ‘_ extra-friendly’ _with Renly any time soon... which I guess is good for me, seeing as I’m his_ ‘fiancée’...)

“ _Well... The whole thing has come as a bit of a surprise. And you obviously know Renly and this other young man, Loras, better. All I want is for you to be happy, Sansa... and you are happy, right_?”

Her lips formed into a strenuous smile, another lie leaving her lips - “Yes, I couldn’t be happier dad.”

“ _Then I will only offer my congratulations darling_.”

The relief and contentment in his voice made her stomach churn. And yet, the lie believed, Sansa couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief of her own.

“Thank you, dad... I knew it would come as a bit of a shock... As I said before: we _had_ planned to visit, and tell mom and you about the engagement in person. Unfortunately, with how things developed, I just wanted to make sure that you guys didn’t accidentally find out by some strange-random call...”

“ _Don’t worry, Sansa, I understand. And I’m sure we will have plenty of time to get to know one another before the wedding. – For one, I’m certain your mom will have a hundred and one questions._ ”

“Ah yes... – _hum_ \- about mom... I just want to keep the engagement quite for the moment. I mean, we ( _literally_ ) only just got engaged... We’ve only told Renly’s family for the moment; want to keep it quiet for a bit. We are not going to start planning anything straight away either, especially in the next few days, with Robert Baratheon’s party. I am going to call mom with the news but... could... could you make sure she doesn’t spread the news of our engagement around.”

“ _Gods Sansa – you don’t hold back any punches, do you? Do you not realise what you are asking you me? This is your_ mother _we are talking about: she is a woman to be feared. I should know; I have been married to her for the last thirty years._ ”

“I know dad – but you are just as fearsome and formidable as her. If anyone can be successful at persuading her, it’s you with your northern charm.”

“ _Ha-ha... I’m not so easily fooled Sansa; I see what you are trying to do, trying to butter up your old man._ ”

Sansa gave a chuckle, “I have no idea what you mean, I only speak the truth dad.”

“ _Alright, alright. I can never say no to my princesses... but I’m not promising anything Sansa._ ”

“Thank you... All I ask is for you to talk to her, dad... Oh, and... I pretty sure Robert Baratheon will try to call you - you know - with the news and all that... could you also try to rein him in his excitement as well... and maybe also not tell him about the Loras thing either... _please_?”

The second plea was met with a distinctive loud groan on the other end of the line.

 

 

=

[ ](http://s284.photobucket.com/user/shortsandramblings/media/Chapter%2011_zpsw9teixcj.jpg.html)

=

 

 


	12. A Morning Stroll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologise for the slight lateness of this chapter - was feeling under the weather all week so Stansa writing/updating was put on hold

 

 

Stannis was not proud of himself. _No_ \- this was definitely _not_ his finest hour.

As soon as he had made out the lonely figure moving through the knot gardens, he had promptly gathered a jumper and his lighter winter jacket, and had decided to... go on a _morning stroll_. (- One that just happened to be in the vicinity to Miss Stark’s own walk, though keeping to the other side of the tall hedges, and staying as silent as possible.)

Dire situations called for dire actions.

His mind had whirled with questions (- _and still did now_ ). Had she come out - far from all eyes and ears - to speak with one of her lovers?... the love sick fool ‘ _Harry’_ (- who Stannis was more and more certain was Captain Hardygn)?... Or possibly the man from the platform?... Or another he had yet to learn of?

 

“... _would react — some — to stay private - between a couple - no?”_

With only the morning noises to be heard, the soft voice speaking, undoubtedly on the phone, had not been difficult to locate.

_“—“_

“ _As for Loras — ended on good terms — things weren’t — to be — Believe it or not, we — still very good friends.._.”

On the other hand, it had been rather frustrating that, having taken so long, Stannis had missed the start of the conversation. - Even more trying had been only receiving one side of the conversation, and the fact that the young lady did not speak loud or clear enough for him to properly hear all she said, with certain words becoming muffled through the foliage.

_“—“_

“ _— couldn’t be happier dad.”_

_“—“_

“ _Thank you — knew it would come as a bit of a shock... As I said —_ _had_ _planned to visit, and tell mom and you about — engagement in perso — things developed, I just wanted to make sure that — didn’t accidentally find out by some strange-random call_...”

_“—“_

“ _Ah yes... — about mom — just want to keep the engagement quiet for the moment. — we only just got engaged... We’ve only told Renly’s family for the moment; want to keep it — a bit. We are not — start planning anything straight away either, especially in the next few days, with Robert Barath — arty. I am going to call mom with the news but... — you make sure she doesn’t spread the news of our engagement around_.”

_“—“_

“ _I know — you are just as fearsome and formidable as her. If anyone can be successful at persuading — you with your northern charm.”_

_“—“_

“ _I have no idea — mean, I only speak the truth dad._ ”

_“—“_

“ _Thank you — I ask is for you to talk to her, dad... Oh, — pretty sure Robert Baratheon will try to call you - you know - with the news and all that... could you also try to rein —is excitement as well... — also not tell him about the Loras thing either... _please__?”

_“—“_

_“Yes, of course — will speak soon. And I will let you know how my — mom goes, though she will prob — want call you straightway herself...”_

_“—“_

_“Yes —ank you.”_

_“—“_

_“Bye, dad. - Love you too.”_

 

What he _had_ heard though had at least cleared some of Stannis’ concerns.

For one, the young lady spoke with her father. (- _Though, there is nothing stopping her from calling an - unrelated - younger man later on_ ). Furthermore, the call gave some explanation as to why Miss Stark had seemed out of sorts when Renly had announced their engagement the previous evening. The call also made it even more apparent the fact that the relationship had been more or less hidden from the respective families, with Ambassador Stark having had no more idea that his daughter was seeing Stannis’ brother, than Renly’s family had had any indication before yesterday that he was seeing a ‘Sansa Stark’. So much so, that it even seemed that her father thought her still in a previous liaison (- though why she would refer to the past relationship as the ‘ _Loras thing’_ Stannis had no idea.)

 

_“—“_

“ _Good morning mom— me, Sansa._ ”

_“—“_

Hearing the start of the second call, confirming that Miss Stark had indeed called her mother, Stannis slowly retreated, moving to the outer walls of the castle, his mind going over on the matter at hand.

Questions remained. _Specifically_ : why Miss Stark did not wish to advertise the engagement - keep it ‘ _within the family’_ for the time being? - Was it to not outshine Robert Baratheon’s party (- though, not much could outdo his larger than life brother)? Or was it more in line with a current or past - scorned - lover who would take the news not in the best of light and - _quite literally_ \- storm the castle?... ‘Loras’... ‘Harry’... or another...? (- It had been rather particular to ask of her father _not_ to mention ‘Loras’ to Robert, if – or really, _when_ \- he called his ‘old buddy’.)

 

**.**

 

Lost in reflection - his thoughts going back and forth between his interactions with Miss Stark yesterday and the call from this morning - an hour quickly passed before Stannis realised he should start walking back to the keep.

 

Arriving in the dining hall some time later to break his fast, Stannis was somewhat startled to find the space already occupied, by his older brother no less. Stannis had assumed most would either have their breakfast in bed, or – the more likely scenario – still be asleep. (- On the other hand, noticing Robert’s plate already stacked with enough pancakes to feed a small regiment was less surprising.)

 

A coffee and a bowl of porridge ordered to the butler, newspaper taken from the side table in hand, and Stannis joined his brother at the table (- whilst leaving one seat between them, giving hopefully a safe enough distance from a possible ‘splatter zone’ -) giving the other a soft greeting.

It was only then that Robert seemed to actually take note of his presence and raised his head from the coronary-inducing meal in front of him. Mouth still full of food, he grinned,

“Stannis! Did you forget to turn off your alarm as well? – _Ha_! Can you believe it: Arryn has always been pestering me into putting kind of a morning alarm system on, and the first time it actually wakes me up is the day I’m actually on holiday. Talk about my blasted luck!”

Trying to ignore the few crumbs that had been propelled from his brother’s mouth to land on the table, Stannis wondered if he should point out that it was now well past nine and thus - on a _normal_ working day - Robert should have already been awake and at the office for some time.

The musing was however interrupted by his brother swiftly changing the subject,

“Can you believe that Renly is sleeping with Ned’s daughter? – Truthfully, I had my worries about the boy. Didn’t think he had it in him, especially to with a girl _that_ _gorgeous_. I mean, let’s be honest: for all the looks that boy has, he seemed rather useless at using them. I sometimes actually wondered how I was even related to him. Even _you_ had dated that smoking hot Asshai woman, before marrying what’s-her-name. – The Seven know how you did it though...”

Stannis’ jaw twitched. However troubled Selyse was or had been, Stannis had been married to her for _several_ years. They even had a child – Robert’s _niece_ \- by the Seven’s sake! (Not to mention the fact that Robert had actually slept with Selyse’s cousin.) – Was it _so_ hard for his brother to remember his (ex-)sister-in-law’s _name_?

As for Melisandre, there was definitely no point in explaining to his brother that Stannis hadn’t actually done anything at all there: Melisandre had been the one to strip down naked in front of _him_ , whilst he had been trying to finish a report. (- Nor would he really classify his relationship with the woman as ‘ _dating’_.)

Clearly oblivious to Stannis’ irritation, Robert’s scoffed once more (- another set of crumbs escaping the confines of his mouth -), shaking his head in disbelief,

“ _Ned_ – going to be Renly's _father-in-law_... _Ha_! Finally got one up on the old dog... _wolf_. - At least we have a few years before some young buck comes prancing around _our_ daughters.”

His mind going to the image of an older Shireen being surrounded by several ‘ _young bucks prancing_ ’ around her, Stannis was more than grateful when moments later a plate of food was placed in front of him, distracting him from the disturbing images.

Unfortunately, the sight of more food did not sidetrack Robert. Instead, it seemed to have animated his brother further. Taking another large bite of his own meal, Robert asked,

“Do you remember where Ned’s girl said he was now?”

There was a pause, his filled spoon hovering somewhere between the bowl and his mouth, where Stannis remembered Miss Stark having actually mentioned the location (- and it hadn’t just been him reading it through his research). He promptly supplied – “Valyria” before taking first mouthful of porridge.

“ _Valyria_? – What the blazes would Ned be doing there?”

This time Stannis only gave his brother a non-committal huff, trying to focus on his food. - Miss Stark hadn’t actually gone so far as to inform them last night of her father’s current situation (- or the fact that Ambassador Stark’s sister currently lived in Valyria with her husband for several years, which was a possible reason as to _why_ he had accepted the position). It wouldn’t do for Stannis to have to explain why _he_ had suddenly become so well informed about Miss Stark and her family (- nor did he want to be the one to inform his brother that ‘the one that got away’ was married to someone else, on the other side of the ocean).

As an alternative, Stannis provided the - rather obvious - answer, in a tone that he hoped conveyed a certain level of disinterest on the matter,

“I would assume that _Miss Stark_ would be the one to ask about her family’s movements... or, at the very least, _Renly_ could possibly have some insight on the subject.”

At the reply, Robert blinked at Stannis several times, before eying him as if suddenly wondering why he was actually speaking with _Stannis_.

“Right, of course.”

 

Unfortunately, - as if called upon by the Gods of Torment – barely a minute passed before Renly suddenly appeared through the room’s main entrance. From his current state - his hair mussed, wearing a pair of warm pyjama bottoms and his old university sweater – it was clear that his younger brother had just woken up. A yawn escaping his tired but cheerful face, he greeted them all the same.

“Mornin’ gang!”

Knowing it a waste of time to point out that they weren’t actually in a ‘ _gang_ ’ – thus the greeting rather ridiculous - Stannis gave a nod, “Morning.”

Robert, on the other hand, beamed back (- his hand and fork unfortunately swinging in his enthusiasm -), “ _Renly_!”

Barely sat down, Robert launched his assault on their younger brother, “Did our soon-to-be sister not want to join us? - _Wear her out_ , did you?” the inappropriate comment of course finishing with a tasteless wink.

Whilst Stannis’ jaw tightened (- definitely _not_ imagining his younger brother ‘ _wearing out’_ his fiancée -), Renly gave an awkward cough, “ _Hum_... Actually, I thought she would be down here...”

A frown forming, Renly unfortunately then turned to look at Stannis and ask him,

“You wouldn’t happen to have seen Sansa, would you Stan?”

At the question and both gazes focused on him – waiting on his possible incite – Stannis’ jaw slackened slightly, before he was able to compose himself and rebuke,

“How would I know where Miss Stark is, she is _your_ fiancée not _mine_. – Incidentally, _maybe_ you should be more preoccupied as to where your future wife goes... no?”

Ignoring the other two men’s blank stares blinking at him, Stannis looked down at his porridge and took a larger spoonful than usual, before forcing it all in his mouth.

 

Unfortunately, although clearly rather annoyed by the – uninformative - responses, Robert was no more discouraged by them, and instead – his attention fully focused on Renly - proceeded to ask their younger brother a string of questions (- though mostly about ‘ _Ned’_ rather than his daughter).

 

**=**

 

First came Catelyn Stark’s several long exclamations of joy: Sansa was _finally_ going to marry. Not only that, but the announcement was apparently the relief her mother needed to prove that at least _one_ of her daughters was not going to end up an ‘ _old maid_ ’ (- _do people actually still use that word_? -) or worse, decide to become a lesbian (- no point in explaining to her mom that people didn’t just _decide_ to be gay or straight).

Of course, after the moment of elation, there then had then been the gruesome half-hour of berating. Catelyn Stark had proceeded to chastise Sansa for having put _her_ through such a worry as well as having ‘ _forced_ ’ her to unnecessarily put so much _time_ and _effort_ into trying to find an appropriate ‘ _suitor’_ for Sansa (- not to mention, even having been compelled to call upon Lysa’s assistance on the ‘ _dire situation’_ ).

Only then had her mom asked a few ‘pertinent’ questions about her future son-in-law. Unfortunately, even there, the conversation had soon been rather focused on her mom finding out that Renly was a _third_ son rather than the firstborn. - Her mother’s ‘concern’ had even verged temporarily into reminding Sansa that Harry Hardygn had not only already reached the rank of Captain but that he was the only other beneficiary to the Arryn fortune and estates apart from her cousin, Robin (– not to mention, the fact that he was cousin’s with Robin was somehow proof that he was from ‘ _good stock_ ’). Thankfully this slight moment of reservation had been soon been washed down (– possibly by her mother remembering that the Baratheon family was an older – and far wealthier - family than any ‘Hardygn’ or ‘Arryn’).

Regrettably, it was after all this that Sansa had decided to mention that her mother couldn’t tell anyone of the engagement just yet (– which _yes_ , _did_ include not saying anything to the other ladies of ‘The Club’). To which her mother proceeded into a fifteen minute sermon of ‘ _what is the point in having you daughter finally achieve something actually useful from her prancing about on stage in next to nothing, and, at long last, getting engaged - to one of the oldest families in Westeros, no less - if not to talk about it_ ’?

 

Despite the small headache that had developed, after the call, Sansa had proceeded to then call Arya. – Her sister definitely needed some kind of warning: now that Sansa was (- _more or less_ -) ‘taken care of’, their mom was without a doubt going to start focusing her energy on her younger daughter’s ‘ _future’_.

Yet, even with her irritation in learning she would soon become their mom’s newest guinea pig (- not to mention the thought of Catelyn Stark forcing her to go ‘dress shopping’ -) Arya had not only found the whole story of Sansa becoming engaged to her gay best friend, and stuck three days with his mental family _hilarious_ , but had also burst into a fit of laughter at the thought of Sansa having to tell their father that her ‘ _fiancé_ ’ was not _gay_ , but bisexual, with Sansa and Renly on good terms with his ex-lover (- with Ned Stark then possibly having imagined his ‘princess’ in some torrid devil’s threesome with the two men).

Thankfully, the calls to her brothers had gone more smoothly. For Robb, it had helped that her brother was somewhat clueless to anything that wasn’t actually happening to him, and offered his congratulations (- though not before promising to hunt down and feed Renly to his husky if he ever hurt Sansa). Bran – closeted himself - had been his ever-supportive-self, promising to play along if he received a call from their parents. Rickon was just as accommodating, whilst also knowing the true nature of Sansa and Renly’s relationship.

As for Jon, with the slightly peculiar aspects of his own parents’ relationship as well as knowing full well how difficult his aunt could be, he was willing to help. Nevertheless, Sansa did receive a speech similar to what she expected her dad would to have given if he had known the whole truth about her ‘engagement’. - Thankfully, though, there had been no need to point out that she knew about Jon being in a slightly questionable relationship with a woman not only several years his senior but who was from the Land Beyond, as her cousin did not insist in Sansa revealing the truth to either the Baratheons or Ned Stark. (- On the other hand, Jon _had_ felt the need to give her a rather ominous warning of sorts about Colonel Stannis Baratheon, which hadn’t relieved Sansa in any way about her ‘ _future brother-in-law_ ’)

 

 _Obviously,_ the first people Sansa _had_ to run into on her way back inside the castle were the three big Baratheon men: - Renly smiling at her, jumping from his chair, offering her the seat right next to him, Robert Baratheon giving her a great big grin and a booming welcome before just as swiftly asking her for the best way to get in touch with ‘ _Ned_ ’, and Stannis Baratheon, his face blank of any emotion, gave her a curt greeting before returning on the bowl of food in front of him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =
> 
> [ ](http://s284.photobucket.com/user/shortsandramblings/media/Chapter%2012_zpshxqybn4n.jpg.html)
> 
> =
> 
> Sorry if some readers find Catelyn somewhat/a lot OOC -> I did exaggerate her characteristics to fit the plot better. Although it doesn't really show in the conversations, she does really care about her kids (maybe less so Jon because of the dubious evolution of his parents' relationship) and want them happy and has good intentions... but maybe does not go about it in the best way...


	13. Odette's Entrée

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday morning after breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fully blame BlueCichlid for distracting me from my report and encouraging me to finish/update this chapter.  
> Hope that Blue and the rest of you enjoy! ;D

 

 

Since breaking his fast with his brothers, the morning had continued without too much incident.

 

After eating possibly the equivalent of his weight, Robert had decided to go to the Golf Club (though most likely he would not be seeing many sand pits or greens). Renly and Miss Stark had run off, disappearing to their room to ‘ _properly get ready for the day’_ (whatever that meant).

Cersei was Gods-know-where with her precious first born. She was most likely either trying to keep him from spending too much time alone with Miss Tyrell (not wanting him to get certain ideas from Renly having gotten engaged), or making sure he did not follow Robert to the Club (to get drunk and leer at the female employees).

No one was entirely certain where Tyrion Lannister was (but then again he didn’t really want to know).

As for the children, Stannis had found Robert’s younger two with their au pair, as well as Shireen and the Seaworth boys. All were in a large room clearly prepared as a playroom of sorts, with every child’s toy and book that had ever been imagined; proving once more both Robert and Cersei’s excessive and inappropriate way to deal with parenting. (- There was even a life sized stuffed-lion for the Seven’s sake! _Utterly preposterous_!)

The only the element that dampened Stannis’ mood was his talk he with Davos (who had clearly decided that this weekend would be a good start to be difficult). Although his friend agreed that there was something odd about Renly’s engagement to Miss Stark and how he had proceeded to announce it to the rest of the family, Davos continued to be just as hard-headed as the previous evening, and was reluctant to help Stannis save his brother from a possible disastrous marriage. Instead, his friend felt the need to remind that Stannis was ‘ _on holiday_ ’, and suggested that Stannis to concentrate on spending more time with his daughter or even possibly spending some ‘ _quality time_ ’ with his brothers, as ‘ _an alternative of questioning and undermining them_ ’. After which, Davos and Mary Seaworth had gone off somewhere together, to ‘ _make the most of the kids being looked after by someone else_ ’.

Stannis had no interest in joining Robert at the Club. He could only assume that Miss Stark was monopolising of his younger brother’s time. Conceding to the fact that more adults would be arriving later, and thus his time would be soon demanded elsewhere, Stannis had decided to see to Shireen and the other children.

Somehow, he had ended up explaining _[cyvasse](http://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Cyvasse)_ to them, and for them to then start in a friendly competition, with Stannis apparently becoming a ‘willing referee’ ( _well_ , _someone_ had to make sure they followed the proper etiquette of a cyvasse tournament). Davos’ boys and Shireen had done rather well; quite a few acceptable choice moves for beginners. Stannis had to admit that he had been more than surprised how well Robert’s daughter had played. Although, she then revealed that she had been taught a bit before hand, Stannis felt the need to suggest she pursue lessons with a qualified instructor. On the other hand, Stannis had been rather horrified when Robert’s youngest had actually let _his kitten_ decide on which of his pieces to move (clearly the boy had none of either of his grandfathers’ wits).

Competition complete, Devan and Steffon Seaworth had taken Tommen (and his kitten) outside to show him one of the sports that required a ball. Myrcella had gone to video call a friend: the young man who had first shown her cyvasse, who she had apparently met at summer camp and still kept in contact with. (From hearing the first name ‘Trystane’ and the last name ‘Martell’ Stannis was pretty sure neither Cersei nor Robert knew of this new friend, or at least _his_ name or where he was from).

After ensuring she was properly attired for the cold weather, Shireen and he had momentarily watched the boys playing with the boy, before - _mercifully_ \- Shireen had gotten bored (Stannis might have been bored from the start) and they had ended up taking a walk through Storm's End’s knot gardens, with Shireen talking about the current History Period her and her young school friends had become fascinated by.

 

“... Edric, like me, thinks Rhaenyra should have ruled, since she was the eldest. Patch, however -“

Stannis frowned, unable to stop himself from interrupting. “ _Patch_?”

Shireen blinked up at him, before looking out onto the gardens scrunching her nose slightly, recalling something. “Yes, ‘ _Patch’_. His real name is Patrick... I think. But everyone just calls him ‘Patch’. He prefers it.” Looking back up at Stannis, she added with a shy giggle – “it’s strange, isn’t it?”

Stannis gave a noncommittal huff. _It’s more_ ridiculous _than ‘strange’_. Not wanting to possibly offend Shireen in lieu of her friend by saying so, however, he gave her a nod for her to continue in her lesson of _the Dance of Dragons_ , as he pushed the side door open to let them both back into the warmth of the castle.

 

However, before Shireen was able to start informing him of another reason why Rhaenyra and her children should have been ruling Westeros, her small form perked up; her neck craned, her head rising, with her gaze intent, looking around.

Concerned, Stannis was about to ask what had her so rattled when he heard... _music_?

 _Yes_ , _music_. The faint sound issuing through the walls had Stannis’ words and even his mind frozen. The world seemed to lurch sideways.

There was a small, hesitant nudge to his side, Stannis being reminded of Shireen’s presence. Looking down at her, she asked in a soft whisper, her eyes wide with curiosity, “Can we go look?”

Intrigued himself, though not wanting to look too eager, Stannis reminded his daughter to first remove her cloak and shoes. When finally their slippers where respectively on their feet, he took his daughter’s small hand and lead them down to the Ballroom, where the music was coming from.

 

 _Well, I’ll be.._.

Renly was sat at the pianoforte. His hands moved over the keys, _assured_ , proving his skill. The piece was one Stannis had heard before; he was certain their mother had played it. And yet, regardless of all this, and of how well his brother played, Stannis’ attention was pulled from the music to another in the room...

Neither his brother nor Miss Stark noticed that they now had an audience; both were entirely focused on the progress of her body, her arms and legs moving effortlessly across the hardwood floor.

There was a myriad of _jetés_ , _croisés_ and _pliés_... a couple _attitudes_ , _fouettés_ , and _arabesques_... even a _grand jeté_... as well as many other steps Stannis couldn’t remember from his mother’s ballet terminology lessons at this present time. His attention only followed the movements themselves...

... the poise and precision... the _grace_... the way the body travelled and took-in the whole of the space, vibrating with life and emotion...—

The dancing halted abruptly.

It took another moment for Stannis to realise that the melody had stopped as well, and that his brother was talking, “... You’re totally right San; – Baelish is a total ass-hat... That last sequence doesn’t work... What if you -”

Whilst Renly moved to Miss Stark and the two started talking over the routine, Stannis felt his jaw tighten at his brother’s remark. There had been _nothing_ wrong what-so-ever with Miss Stark’s dancing. It had been... _ethereal_.

Stannis jerked at the thought. He gave a silent cough regaining himself. To then remind himself that any possible critique _he_ might have was impaired by the glaring fact that the last time he had gone to see a ballet performance was over a decade ago, when his mother had taken Renly and him to see _Sleeping Beauty_. Stannis recognized that for this particular field, his brother’s expertise would hold more insight and standing.

 

Renly and Miss Stark were in the middle of an arabesque – his brother’s hands placed rather low on her hips - when suddenly, the young ballerina stopped, lowering her leg.

“ _Oh._ ”

The sound was not been loud, one more of surprise rather than fright, as Stannis felt her wide blue eyes land on him. Stannis froze. The next moment, they moved to Shireen’s smaller form next to him, her lips forming into a tentative smile.

Renly, on the other hand, noticing what had caught his partner’s attention, exclaimed cheerfully, “Why look Sansa; we have an audience!”

Stannis stiffened. “We did not mean to disturb. Shireen was intrigued by the music. We will leave you to your-“

“-Nonsense Stan,” Renly interrupted, waving his arms, as if Stannis had said something absurd. He moved from Miss Stark’s side to get closer to them. “You are both more than welcome to watch.”

His eyes twinkling, Renly proceeded to whisper ridiculously loudly to Shireen, his hand on the edge of his mouth as if imparting a secret – “Though, normally, you have to pay quite a pretty penny to see _this one_ dance... so no going to tell _Monsieur_ Baelish, alright?”

Shireen, for some reason, found his brother’s theatrics amusing, and giggled shyly. “I promise not to tell... But what’s a _‘monsieur’_?”

Stannis could have sworn he heard Renly mumble something about ‘ _term given to creepy lechers_ ’, but the next moment his brother was explaining that the word was used as a title for certain producer-directors in ballet companies.

By the end of the explanation, Renly – being the ever social butterfly - had successfully roped Shireen to moving further into the room, giving a long winded speech about ballet. His monologue went from explaining the roles of certain people in a company, to Miss Stark’s own position as _prima_ , to even mentioning the different performances Renly had seen Miss Stark danced in (most which Stannis _might_ have recognised from his search the previous evening). Miss Stark, herself, showed his daughter a few simple moves and gave a few more technical explanations to questions Shireen had. The whole lesson was completed by Renly suggesting that Miss Stark perform the whole of the sequence she had been revising: Odette’s entrance in Act II of _Swan Lake_ , when the prince first sees her. _The White Swan Pas de deux_.

All in all, Shireen was _enchanted_. Her eyes glowed in wonder and her smile was larger than Stannis had seen it. Stannis was more than certain she would be asking for lessons... as well as requesting to go see Miss Stark perform on stage very soon.

On the other hand, at its completion, Miss Stark gave a small disappointed huff, whilst Renly lamented in a more dramatic manner his own dissatisfaction at the – apparently _‘still terrible’_ \- finish.

 

Renly had been mumbling in the centre of the room with Miss Stark, going over in slower motion the last steps, whilst Stannis and Shireen talked quietly to the side (Stannis relating Renly and his visits with Shireen’s grandmother to several ballets in their youth), when Renly suddenly exclaimed – “ _I got it!_ ”

Looking up towards his brother though, Stannis was not at all reassured by the way Renly’s eyes were gleaming. At _him_.

“Stannis! Come here a sec.”

The fact that Miss Stark looked as lost and confused by his brother’s sudden outburst, wasn’t encouraging either. Nor was the way her face paled when Renly started explaining his idea to the young lady.

Already regretting it, he moved to the couple.

 

“- _It would totally work San. She’s there dancing_... _la-di-da_... Dancing around Prince Siegfried, all flustered and confused. And he’s there, continuing to follow her, slowly wearing her down. – _Well_ not so creepily as ‘wearing her down’, but you know what I mean: he slowly seduces her into trusting him... And _bam_! She - _literally_ \- willingly, falls into his arms, and puts her trust in him, telling him about the curse and explaining how only one who has never found love before could break it, by swearing to love her forever... And of course that’s when evil Von Rothbart enters and finds Odette in the prince’s arms, and ruins it all. – _You’re_ the one who told me Baelish wanted Odette and the prince’s _Pas de deux_ to have the least amount of actual _contact_ , and that they dance around each other and not ‘ _join’_ until the last possible moment.”

Stannis was by his side, by the time Renly’s recounting had ended. He was still very much at a loss as to why Renly had called him over, and what he was doing there, though. (Of course, this was also when Stannis became all the more conscious that Miss Stark was in a similar outfit to the one she had been wearing yesterday in the train, underneath her coat.)

Whilst Miss Stark looked still very sceptical, her mouth in a pout, Renly beamed at him. “Stannis!” before proceeding to study the whole length of him, as if Stannis was a prized horse. “Yes, you will definitely do.”

Stannis jaw only tightened. _Do what_?

Trying not to sound too sardonic (though probably failing miserably), Stannis spoke. “You _called_.”

Clearly obvious to Stannis’ sarcasm, Renly’s smile only grew.

“Indeed I did. All we’re asking of you, big bro, is that you stand there all stiff-like – just like you’re doing right now, perfect. And then when I give the signal – starting the last bit of the _moderato_ – you need to catch Sansa.”

Stannis’ mind froze. _Catch_? _What do you mean_ catch?

Words had not yet come to him however before, with a slight frown, Renly quickly amended his previous statement. “Well, actually, it’s more ‘ _catch and lift’_. But I’m sure you’ll be more than capable.”

His brain very much reeling, Stannis tried to sound as calm as possible as he asked the dreaded explanation to Renly’s remark ‘ _catch and lift_ ’ and Stannis’ ‘ _capabilities_ ’.

“Explain.” _All right_ , his response might have been more a snap order, rather than a question, but a certain level of alarm was building up inside him.

Renly regrettably _did_ explain. Apparently, his _oh-so-wonderful_ brother had resolved the issue of Odette’s _pas deux_ with the prince, and it would be ‘ _very constructive_ ’ if Miss Stark was able to try it out. It seemed that, she was to do the sequence once more – whilst dancing around _him_ – and at the concluding segment, Stannis would step-in for the missing prince and lift Miss Stark into a _boat lift_.

According to Renly, it was all ‘ _really simple_ ’. All Stannis had to do was catch her by the front of the hips and raise her up, using the momentum she had already gained for assisting the wanted pose, for her to end up hovering above him in some kind of ‘ _beautiful horizontal arrangement_ ’ (at least, in Renly’s mind). So basically as _simple_ as battling a lion single-handily.

 

His throat tight, with a definitely snap in his tone, Stannis asked the obvious.

“Why can’t _you_ ‘catch and lift’ Miss Stark into the... boat lift?”

Renly rolled his eyes and actually scoffed, as if about to explain basic math to an idiot.

“ _Stannis_ , brother-dear, I am fair-minded and mature enough to willingly admit you are taller, as well as stronger, better coordinated, and have a better reaction time than me. You should be proud: all those push ups, drills, and what-nots they make you do in the army have undeniably paid off... Plus, you really don’t have anything to worry about: Sansa is light as a feather. Just consider her as a delicate, lithe fairy.”

 _A delicate, lithe fairy_. Stannis thought he might have an aneurism.

He was about to snap a retort, when Miss Stark decided to finally intervene, in her soft – ‘ _lithe_ ’ - voice.

“Ren – stop embarrassing your brother.”

 

 

=

 

 

Sansa knew as soon as the words had left her mouth they had been the wrong ones to say. Especially given the glare that Col Baratheon was now directing at her, for either daring to insinuate he was ‘ _embarrassed_ ’, or maybe the fact that she had actually thought to he needed help in defending himself to Renly.

Well, _she_ was embarrassed and uncomfortable. (In addition to being quite sweaty under her leotard, her muscles humming in a mix between aching and buzzing for more).

To be honest, Sansa would probably be even more self-conscious and reluctant to try Renly’s suggestion if not for the fact that she really wanted to test this opening sequence. Truly, what she wished nothing more than ever, was to return to Winterfell able to not only prove to Baelish that she hadn’t ‘ _lazed about all weekend long, whilst the rest of them had trained and rehearsed’_ but that she had actually made his newest sequence actually _work_.

Renly, clearly ignoring his brother’s darkening mood and unwillingness, ploughed on, with another argument. “Besides _my_ talents are put to much better use at the piano. You and I both know my musical talents, and even ear, surpass yours rather embarrassingly.”

 

Another five minutes of grovelling, and somehow Renly finally convinced his brother into helping out. He also gave a tight nod of consent when Sansa suggested that they practice the lift a few times before she did the whole routine. On the other hand, he only gave a low growl when Sansa dared suggest he might want to stretch and warm up his arms and upper body before they started.

Sansa had to give it to Renly... and Stannis Baratheon; no matter how stiff he may be, the older brother had definitely the right amount of height, coordination, and strength to raise her into the boat lift.

It only took two ‘slow-motion’ lifts (before Col Baratheon impatiently stated they could move on)... one missed-lifts (Col Baratheon’s jaw twitching rather violently)... one lift where Sansa was more than sure her crotch had bumped into the man’s face (his whole face and neck fully red from mortification or from their physical exertion, Sansa wasn’t sure)... another try with Sansa finally rising above his head... and a final two where Sansa was properly lifted high in the air, before Renly deemed them ready for her to do the whole of Odette’s entrance and her part of the _Pas de deux_.

 

As soon as the first note rang through the space, she became Odette... _she fused and bore the Swan Queen’s sorrow... her grief... her hope... She let the music guide her through all her troubles and constant optimism for the future... for the true love she still waited for, who would free her from the curse..._

_... She sensed the confusing presence disrupting her solitude by the lake... She felt his body moving towards hers... his arms mirroring hers... his silhouette becoming a shadow of her own..._

_... her will leaving her, she let herself fall under this beautiful stranger‘s spell... her heart sped up... her feet moved at a quickened pace_...

 _And then._..

... _there she was, high in the air, free_.—

 

 _-Clap-clap-clap-clap_.

At the sudden far away sound of applause, breaking through the last notes from the keyboard, Sansa was pulled out of Odette’s vision.

Her eyes were looking out in the distance, to the high ceiling; her arms were stretched out to the other end of the room, her legs extended in the opposite direction. Her only link to the world below was two strong hands on her hips, holding her steady.

Having performed in enough ballets, Sansa was more than used to the clapping and acclamations coming from audience members. Unfortunately, Colonel Stannis Baratheon was _not_. The two hands abruptly bulked. His quick reflexes were proven once more when he was able to more or less right himself a moment later. And yet, in that first split second, the damage was done, and Sansa felt her body be pressed and slip the length of an unyielding, rock-hard wall of manly chest.

Clearly unbalanced by the interruption and having lost of his footing, she felt an arm circling her waist like a band of steel, to help steady her body before her pointes would have potentially hit the hard floor in an uncomfortable landing.

In its place, - _most gratefully_ \- there was a slight pause, before the balls of her toes slowly and delicately felt the ground beneath them.

Alas, this in no way meant she was steady. Sansa automatically put the flat of her hand against the large expanse of _chest_. There was no mistaking the hard, sculpted muscle beneath the shirt. Wide-eyed with shock from the sequence of motions, she looked up at him, opening her mouth in an attempt to form... _words_. But somehow there were blank spaces in her head where verbal expression should have been and the first coherent thought in her head was how mesmerising she remembered his eyes were, close up; his pupil large, deep black-holes, ringed with dark-stormy blue irises…

Her second thought wasn’t much better. _He’s right; Tom Cruise has_ nothing _on him_.

The third thought, and first proper moment of awareness, had Sansa feel a tide of heat rise up inside her. _Is that...? Oh, my_...

It most definitely _was_. Sansa was sure of it. Especially from how dilated his eyes were, his rapid heartbeat, and on the redness of his neck and face.

She felt her own skin heat up further, as she slowly detached herself as gracefully as possible from his _hard_ body, and hoped that the others in the room was would assume their coloured cheeks were from the physical efforts of the dance and lift.

 

Taking a long breath of air, and more properly steadying herself now that she was released, Sansa turned to face their ‘audience’. Renly had risen from the piano, and the sweet little girl, Shireen, was smiling in wonder (hopefully from the performance) but Sansa’s gaze then found by the door those who had most likely done the clapping: a tall handsome blonde man, who, she quickly registered, was most likely Cersei Lannister’s twin brother, and... –“ _Brienne_?”

 

 

 

=

 

 

=

 

 


End file.
